


You need a fir for Christmas

by Iithril



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Banshee!Bucky, Banshee!Natasha, Christmas Fluff, F/F, M/M, Mythology References, Selkie!Steve, Tony is a God, Travel, mcuchristmasexchange2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21971047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iithril/pseuds/Iithril
Summary: Tony learns about Christmas and decides to send Bucky on a mission to bring him back a fir, a star and his favourite god.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Loki/Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28
Collections: MCU Christmas Exchange





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alittlewicked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlewicked/gifts).



> Written for the MCU Christmas Exchange! 
> 
> I decided to sign in and I don't regret it at all. My giftee gave me such fantastic prompts to work with, I wrote something way longer than what I expected. I hope you'll like it, dear alittlewicked~
> 
> Many thanks to Ruquas for organising this and putting it all together, and to EachPeachPearPlum for helping me when I was struggling with vocabulary. Thanks to everyone who participated in the Exchange, it was a delight!
> 
> And finally, thanks to my beta, emptydistractions, without whom this would have been a potential disaster. You saved me!

He sat alone at the shore, staring at the ocean. The deep, blue waves kept coming, dying at his feet, never quite touching them - just sending spits of salt and cold – but the sun was high in the sky, and it warmed him enough. There was no sound except for the blurred murmur of the water and the sand whirling and rising only to retreat the next moment.

  
  
  


He was in his human form, his seal skin laid on the sand next to him. From time to time, he felt the lukewarm fur and admired how the sun rays reflected off it. But he mainly kept his hand busy drawing with a bit of charcoal he had found a long time ago. 

He was drawing on a flat rock and occasionally stuck out his tongue in focus. The charcoal stick was coarse, and it definitely wasn’t easy to get the level of precision he would like, but it soothed him anyway, thanks to the Gods.

Steve needed to draw, after all. Being a seal was pleasant, to say the least, but it wasn’t who he was. After a long time spent in the water, swimming and playing with his friends, he always felt that pulling toward the shore, that dire need that kept him awake at night when the moon played with the waves. 

When it was unbearable, he would come here, take off his skin and draw. It was a way of reminding himself that he was still human, even if he was partly seal. And he could flex his fingers, his goddamn  _ fingers _ . He could run his fingers through his hair, even if they were coated with dried salt.

He wondered what he had done to deserve this. He had some foggy memories from his previous life, when he was still entirely human, and they were not pleasant at all. He remembered his death, and how he had thought everything was over, that he was finally going to meet the Gods.

Instead, he had woken up with the tender feeling of being hugged and lulled by a warm embrace. As he had opened his eyes, he had discovered a whole new world, and new friends gleefully swimming around him.   
  
  


But he had no time for those memories – he had to go back to the ocean. The sun was starting to hurt his eyes, and the longer he persisted, the harder it would be for him back in the water.

He wasn’t ready to settle for more human changes in his body. He would miss the underwater sight if he did. And as far as he remembered, being human involved meals, clothes, and interactions with other humans. He wasn’t ready for that at all. Being a seal brought him the peace he hadn’t known he needed.

He perceived countless things in a more acute way as a seal - his skin was more sensitive; he was stronger and he could even feel the temperature differences and vibrations in water when he was swimming. Plus raw fish tasted better in his seal form than in the human one.    
  
  


Sighing, he put his landscape drawing on his lap and took one last look at it. As precise as it could be with his drawing instrument, it wasn’t so bad. At least he had held the charcoal properly, not like the first time he had become human again. Gods, he couldn’t walk properly at this time! Legs were hard, and fingers even harder.   
  
  


He rose, the sun playing with his features and gleaming on his tanned skin. Naked, but still warm, he moved his charcoal back in a little cavity that would keep it dry. He rose on his feet, took his seal skin with him and walked near the ocean. As the waves were licking his toes, he stepped in his skin as if it was trousers. He stepped forward, stumbling a bit because of his two feet stuck together in the skin. 

As he walked more deeply into the ocean, he slowly pulled up the skin. It first covered his legs, then his waist. When he had pulled it up under his chin, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and dived entirely. The water embraced him. When darkness came as the skin covered him entirely, he held his breath and let the magic happen.   
  
  


A few seconds later, a seal swam away from the shore, leaving a flat rock with a dazzling copy of the landscape on it. It had everything, from the pointy aggressive-looking and weathered rocks near the shore to the foam lining the waves and the shiny reflection on the visible sand under the water, including the seagulls flying above the water, captured in their gracious motion.

If one’s looked at it long enough, the waves would give the impression they moved. Sadly, no one was there to witness it, and the sea called it back when the moon arose. There was no proof left of Steve’s passage on Earth. The ocean made sure of that.   
  
  


**~°~**   
  
  


James Buchanan Barnes, also known as Bucky to his friends, was waiting. Dressed up in a long, stern robe, his long black hair tied up in a bun, he waited patiently for someone to die.

It wasn’t simple though; they were obstinate. Clinging to life as hard as they possibly could while life was fleeing far away from them.   
  
  


Eventually, Bucky saw the first thread of the rope tying them to life wither and fray. He slipped through the veil of the realms, appearing ever so slowly, and began chanting.

His deep voice rang in the void, flirting with low-pitched notes. It made his throat vibrate as he sang the story of the mortal dying in front of him in the language of the fairies. Of course, the mortal couldn’t understand what he was singing, how the foreign sonorities were describing their exploits and merits. All they could understand was that a Banshee was singing in front of them, which meant they were going to die.

As the realisation dawned upon them, they finally accepted their fate. Bucky witnessed the rope withering faster, till the last thread. When it broke, a slow breath came out of his lips, mirroring the one escaping the mouth of the mortal.

Bucky gathered his forces and called back the soul that was already flying away, chanting and moving his hands with precise movements. When the mortal was back in front of him, levitating and looking confused, Bucky explained to them, in patient words, that his Master invited them to Avalon. They were free to refuse and vanish into the Realm of the Dead, as his Master valued consent. 

Still, it represented a unique opportunity, one that wasn’t granted to any mere mortal – only to the best of them. The soul had indeed caught the attention of his Master thanks to their talents – they could forge weapons out of iron, but preferred to create jewels and delicate ornaments. However, their talent lay in their ability to administrate and run a business.

In the court of his Master, those talents wouldn’t go to waste – they would serve a purpose, and give the opportunity to the Gods to shine wearing their best crafting, magnified with the little help of the Crafter.

The soul hesitated, but the nostalgia of their hands wielding the metal, and the treasures of patience they deployed for their work chose for them: they were going to Avalon. They were already dead, after all, and a Banshee, even if scary, was a good presage from the Gods.

So Bucky offered them his hand with gentle manners, careful not to scare them. Then he touched the bond that linked him to his Master and pulling onto it, he crossed the veil of the Realms with the soul and guided them through the misty waters of the Fairy Realm – towards Avalon.

  
  
  


**~°~**

  
  
  


Anthony was considering getting out of the Tower and searching for James, but he trusted him enough not to move.

He was alone in his workshop, his dear familiars chirping and swirling around him. A few shiny globes were floating and casting a warm light on him and his surroundings. He had personally chosen the light’s temperature, perfectly balanced between bright enough to see properly and dim enough not to hurt one’s eyes. 

It was one of his many inventions that served the Castle and the whole island, and he was proud of it.

But for now, he was waiting, sitting alone and listening with a distracted ear to all the ruckus that was coming from upstairs. All the souls James had been charged to save were there. He had opened his Tower’s door for them and offered them a place to call home again and a position. It warded off the loneliness bound to his technical immortality, and they all possessed precious skills that served him well.   


After all, he was the Crafter of Avalon, the best one of all the Sidhe Realm. Once upon a time, he had crafted and forged weapons and battle armours for the Sidhes. He was second to none in this field and many had begged for his crafts.

But not any more. War and useless death repelled him. He had changed his mind and had devoted his talents to improvements that could save lives, or at least make them brighter and better - hence the light orbs, which were crafted and distributed almost for free around the island.

He had welcomed mortal souls that had been victims of an unfair death and employed them. They assisted him in his formidable projects and brought life to his Tower.

They were all found by James – who was currently making him wait. A soul he held dear was supposed to cross the veil soon. James had sensed it, the rope tying the mortal to life catching his attention. He had bid him farewell and flown through the ocean that was circling and protecting Avalon. 

He was due to be back before twilight. Yet, Anthony had waited for him outside and had watched the sun as it had faded beyond the horizon. Now, the stars and the chill of the night possessed the sky.

Anthony had come back to his workshop, hoping his projects would keep him distracted but his mind had refused to focus. So he waited, idly playing with his familiars and swearing when they pulled his hair or clung to his ears.   


A dull sound coming from the wooden stairs descending to his workshop broke him out of his reverie. He focused back and witnessed James coming down ever so slowly, followed by a shivering silhouette.

“By the Gods, I thought you finally had enough for me and flew, Bucky,” he said, clasping his hands.

James gave the soul a hand to ensure they came down the last step without tripping. It always seemed difficult for the incoming souls to settle into their new physical form, yet this one was careful and attentive.

Together, they crossed the room and came to him. James kneeled and answered him in a low placid voice. “She was clinging to life and refused to let go until the last moment, Tony. You should appreciate her.”

He briefly looked at the soul, who had adopted a fierce stance and was staring at him sternly. He smiled.

“Now she is eager to work for you,” James added as he rose.

Anthony examined the soul. She was taller than him with long straight red hair, and she seemed composed. She hadn’t made a move when James had kneeled.

He had to introduce himself and decided to put on a show for her. With a jump, he got off the table he was sitting on when he was waiting for them. 

He stretched his arms and exclaimed with a grand voice, “Welcome to Avalon! I, Anthony the Crafter, also known as the Man who wields Iron, welcome you into my Tower. I hope you find a new home here, but you’re free to live elsewhere as long as you attend to your duties.”   
  


She didn’t move an inch and waited a second to ensure he was finished before finally speaking. Her smooth voice carried authority but behind it was strong relief.

“Thank you, Anthony. My name is Virginia, but you can call me Pepper. James,” she looked at him, “explained to me what I was supposed to do here. I might need a day to assess my new environment, but you can count on me afterwards.”

He smiled at her, impressed by her composure, then waved at James to walk with him and offered an arm to Pepper.   
  


He showed her the Tower, all the floors that were designed to offer the best to the crafters he had gathered, those which allowed them to rest and enjoy their stay, and some secret passages between them – he had freshly designed them, and they relied on levitation, a science he had discovered recently.

When she yawned, he led her to her quarters and left her to settle. James, who had left them at some point saying that he needed to rest, appeared next to him.

“I think she will be great here,” James said fondly.

“She sure will be!” Anthony exclaimed. After a brief pause, he added, “Come here, I need to check your arm to see if everything is alright.”

The Banshee flexed his arm in response. It was a memory of his past life, one he couldn’t quite recall: when he came back to life as a Banshee, he was missing his left arm.

Anthony had designed a new one for him when he had put him up. It was made of wood, one of those that grew only in Avalon, and iron was embedded in it in mesmerising patterns. It wasn’t as sensible as the real one, but the iron and the chosen tree species made it possible for him to move it normally. 

He was used to hiding it under his robes, since being a Banshee required some clothing drama according to Anthony, but he felt comfortable enough to show it in the Tower.

They headed back to Anthony’s main workshop and after a few tests, Anthony concluded everything was normal, if not perfect as usual. They both departed, exchanging good night vows while knowing neither of them was going to sleep.

  
  
  


**~°~**

  
  
  


Loki was swimming with Jormungandr near Asgard. He had had a banter with Thor and had decided to take a break. Besides, it had been a while since he had been able to enjoy a few moments with his favourite serpent.

But he wasn’t really in the mind to play with the reptile. He had swum and raced with him, had played hide and seek in the middle of the lake, but now he was just thinking, staring at the sky.

As he floated in the crystalline water, Jormungandr came next to him and addressed him in his gravelly tongue. “What are you thinking about?” the formidable serpent asked.

Loki looked at him, a bit surprised it had guessed he was daydreaming. Appreciating the concern, he answered, letting his inner desire of telling the story on his mind arise.

“Once upon a time, countless years before this very moment, when you weren’t even born yet, when the Allfather still reigned over us, I was charged to visit the other Gods from the Southern Pantheons.”

As he spoke, he unleashed his magic. A green land, greener than the gilded Asgard, greener than the icy blue Jotunheim appeared in front of them.

“I went to the land of the Sidhe, of whom you may have heard before, as their Banshees visit our warriors sometimes.”

A fearsome silhouette appeared, with long black hair upheld with a bun and black robes.

“There, in Avalon, I met the King of the Sidhe, and he had the courtesy to show me his Court.”

The Banshee vanished and a shimmering iridescent crowd took its place. There were many gods, some slender like the Jotuns were, some small, similar to the Dwarves. They were dressed up in fancy robes and uniforms, and seemed to be either chatting, drinking, or dancing.

“That night I got acquainted with a lot of other Gods. However, one in particular drew my attention and my affection.”

A small man appeared in the centre of the crowd, the features of the other Gods slowly fading. He had short brown hair, and caramel eyes that shined with intelligence.

“The King introduced him to me as the Crafter of Avalon, the Man who wields the Iron. He was witty but strong-headed, and we discussed many things during the night.”

A younger version of the Trickster God materialised next to him. The stars casting their light turned around them until they faded under their feet.

“Sadly, my duties called upon me and I had to depart. I asked him when I could see him again, and he was willing to come with me to Asgard – so that I could show him my country as he had shown his to me.”

A bright light sparked in the chest of the Crafter, and branched all around him.

“After my question, he was silent, but then answered quietly that he was tied to Avalon. His heart depended on the power of the Island to beat and he thus couldn’t set a foot away from it, for that would cause the death of him in an instant.”

The Crafter vanished, as did the green landscape that surrounded them both, leaving the younger Loki alone, staring into the void solemnly.

“To this day, I haven’t been able to come back to Avalon and see him. I received a few letters however, carried by the strongest messenger birds one could find, and my affection hasn’t withered, but rather grown with his kind and fierce words.”

The vision shifted to young Loki in his private quarters in Asgard sitting at his desk. A letter was in front of him and he was furiously writing on a blank page, his elegant handwriting soon covering the paper. From time to time he stopped to read a few words from the letter he had seemingly received.

“And now, my dear serpent, I must admit that I miss him more than ever. It has been a while since he last wrote me and I wonder – has he found a lover from his land? Has something happened to him? Or have I upset him in some unknown way?”   


Loki restrained his magic and the younger version of him shuddered and finally vanished. Jormungandr came closer silently and embraced him in a tight coil with his scaly body. Loki rested his hand on a scale, thankful for the concern his friend was showing, and closed his eyes to relish the embrace. 

Maybe it was time for him to make a move - his position as the right hand of Thor restricted many of his potential movements, but he was still a Trickster God. He certainly could find a solution to see Anthony again, right?

  
  
  


**~°~**

  
  
  


A few weeks later in Avalon, on a bright morning, Anthony almost dropped the light globe he was working on when Pepper came to him and asked him if they could arrange a kind of party for a mortal celebration – mortals were the best to find any occasion to celebrate something.

She explained to him with a great amount of patience as he was firing questions at her, that it was a complex celebration during which everyone had to exchange presents. Mortals celebrated it during the middle of winter and they usually had a huge feast before the present exchange.

They also decorated a tree that Pepper called a fir with shiny orbs and sometimes a star on top of it.   
  
  


Anthony decided immediately that they would have to celebrate this – Pepper called it Christmas. But they needed a fir, since that was a species that certainly didn’t grow here. And decorations – but he could come up with that. 

The souls would be delighted to participate in such a joyful event, and that would represent a wonderful occasion for him to drink and bring life and sound again to the Tower.

It was settled – he was going to ask Bucky to bring back a fir for him and the shiniest star he could find out there.

And maybe he could invite some people from the outside… like the Trickster God he had met once.

That was going to be fun, Anthony thought. He would have to thank Pepper for informing him about – what was it called again? Christmas?

  
  



	2. Meeting and Plotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony sets his plan into motion, Bucky makes an unexpected encounter and Loki plots, as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is chapter 2! Sorry for the delay, I had some problems with the corrections that didn't show up for some reason. 
> 
> As always, many thanks to Ruquas for her patience and for organising the event! And thanks to my beta, emptydistractions, who made this readable for you~
> 
> I hope you still like it, dear alittlewicked! 
> 
> The following chapters will be up within hours, so stay tuned!

_Three weeks later_

James was out, the Sidhe messenger that Anthony had sent to query the Banshee informed him. Which bothered Anthony a bit, as he would have to wait for his friend to return, but he respected his friend's desire of privacy and rest. His arm had suffered dysfunction because of the arrival of spring a week ago. The wood which composed it had begun to grow branches, and by the time Anthony had run the necessary tests to determine where the problem lay, James' arm had grown a flower.

Anthony’s lips stretched wide in a smile as he remembered the frown on his friend's face and how he had been torn between cutting out the flower or keeping it on his arm. It had been so frail, with a tiny little leaf and even tinier petals.

It had been, after all, a pretty and delicate flower that looked a lot like a jasmine, Pepper had stated. She had chosen for James and had cut the flower to put it into a vase on the main table of the workshop.

It smelled like something sweet and spicy and was still alive - probably thanks to the magic water of the shores of Avalon that James had added to the vase.

Anthony grabbed the letter he had written for the Trickster God and a bag of supplies that Pepper had meticulously prepared for James, then headed to the Banshee’s quarters with confident strides.

James barely stayed in the Tower; he much preferred to roam the island, exploring every inch of it - which proved to be a difficult task since it was always changing and moving.

Anthony knew how to call James to him easily enough. He reached out to the sentient entity who inhabited the Tower’s structure. He could feel them shiver with his mental poke, as if they were slowly awakening - which, in the scheme of things, was probably the case. Then their voice echoed in Anthony’s mind.

“Hello, Sir. Do you want me to call the Banshee again?”

“Yes Jarvis, I would like you to. My, you guessed correctly!” Anthony answered with a smile and a brief look around, since the entity technically surrounded him.

“That is virtually all you ask me to do, Sir. The guess was easy,” the entity responded in a caustic tone.

Anthony snorted, then with a dramatic gesture explained, “You do everything I need before I even think about it, that’s all.”

There was silence and Anthony felt the humming words taking form in his mind, as if Jarvis was laughing.

“Which is why I also called the Widow, Sir.”

Anthony bowed in the middle of the corridor he was crossing, fully aware that the entity would see him and appreciate the gesture. He resumed his walk and finally arrived in front of a wood panel elegantly ornamented with fantastic creatures. James had carved some of them when Anthony had been calibrating his arm for the first time, like the unicorn in the middle, or the griffin that hid in the corner. He had added the others later, after he had encountered them during his travels across the Realms. There were pixies, dwarves, a stylised will-o'-the-wisp, and even a wyvern! All of them were carved with great talent and astonishing detail. Anthony could stare at the panel for hours at a time and had never been bored by the creatures.

“Are you waiting for something, Sir?”

Jarvis’ tone was seemingly innocent but Anthony knew better.It had been a while since he had helped the Tower to become sentient and he considered the entity his friend.

“Maybe for you to open the door, hm?” retorted Anthony, raising a suspicious eyebrow to the ceiling.

“Oh, right, the second thing you need me for,” Jarvis said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Clearly they were in a good mood today.

Anthony could open the wood panel by himself, as he was bound to the Island and could stretch his mind everywhere and control almost everything, at least for a short period. But he would rather not, for it cost him a lot of energy and made him feel like a voyeur - entering the Island’s conscience or Jarvis’ felt wrong.

So he let Jarvis open the panel for him. It was also a way to ensure that James was alright with him coming in - his friend could lock the panel if needed. Everyone needed their privacy and Anthony respected that.

But today, the panel slid aside silently and Anthony stepped in.

James' quarters were as tidy as ever. A large bed occupied the middle of the room. There were two closets - one full of food, Anthony knew - on one side of the room, a large mahogany desk and behind another panel, a bathroom that James had designed with Japanese inspiration.One of the souls he had saved had told him about how they were structured, and the Banshee had been seduced by the concept.

Anthony put the letter and the bag on the desk and then sat at the edge of the bed.

A gentle knock echoed on the wood panel that Jarvis had had the presence of mind to close. Before the Crafter could say anything the panel opened again, and he smirked in the direction of the ceiling, admiring the entity’s thoughtfulness.

A short, red-haired woman entered, peeping around as she approached Anthony with a predatory attitude. Not even slightly impressed, he rose and bowed deeply.

“It’s been a long time, Natasha. I’m glad to see you’re well and sound - and always so quick to answer my call.”

Natasha observed him bow and then broke in a tiny, yet warm smile.

“You call me for two reasons: when you’re about to do something silly or to get drunk. Either way, I want to be here,” she said mockingly.

She sat on the bed, precisely where Anthony was before her arrival, and tapped the blanket. The Crafter gladly complied and said as he sat next to her, “Guess what? Because I’m a genius, I found a way to do both at once.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked at him skeptically, waiting for him to explain.

So he told her his big plan.They would celebrate this new-called Christmas in the Tower and he would charge James to invite the Northern God, Loki, and to bring back a fir and a star to Avalon.

Natasha was also a Banshee so she was used to crazy things. She had been a Banshee for a bit longer than James and she came from a foreign, unfriendly land covered with ice. When she had first arrived in Avalon, she had been distrustful. But after a long time spent with both James and Anthony, she had gradually opened her armour and become friendlier. She was still a bit cold from time to time, and no one in Avalon would dare to defy her - except for James, whom she treasured enough not to kill.

Her life hadn’t exactly been radiant before Avalon, so Anthony ensured that he never missed a chance to brighten her day and to give her some good memories to treasure.

As she listened to him, she went from bemused to amused. She knew for a fact that Anthony often had silly ideas, but this one topped them all.

When he was finally finished, she tilted her head and asked him, “And I guess you want me to take care of James' souls while he is away?”

_Gods, she was brilliant_ , Anthony thought.

“Yes, if you can. That will lessen his burden and ease his travel.”

“Am I to travel somewhere?”

James' voice startled them both. Standing in the bathroom door frame, he was looking at them with a smile, his arms crossed but his stance relaxed.

“How, by the Gods, did you manage to enter by the _bathroom_?” Anthony enquired with a strangled voice, his erratic heartbeat still resonating through his body.

Natasha was clearly embarrassed to have let her guard down, and she stared at James with an upset frown.

“I helped him, Sir, since he kindly asked me,” Jarvis answered for him.

“My, and I thought I liked you,” Anthony grumbled.

James came closer and sat informally on the floor in front of them, then waited for an explanation.

With a sigh, Anthony repeated what he had just told Natasha, pointing at the bag and the letter as he talked.

“So, are you up to the task?” he asked when, with a dry mouth, he reached the end of his speech.

He knew James would be, but he also wanted to ensure his friend was really willing to go. He didn’t want to force him into something that would make him uncomfortable.

James’s wholesome _“Yes”_ reassured him. When Natasha added that she could take care of James’ souls while he was away, Anthony felt really grateful for having such wonderful friends. He would prepare gifts that showed the depth of his gratitude, he reminded himself.

Christmas was also a great occasion to show his appreciation to his friends, after all.

**~°~**

_The next day_

Bucky might or might not regret his decision, as Pepper checked his bag for the fifth time.

“For Morgana’s sake Pepper, you literally prepared this bag and I haven't take anything out. Everything will be fine.Don’t worry.”

She looked at him and said apologetically, “I just want to make sure you’ll be safe. I guess I’m worried after all. You saved me and brought me to this place, and I don’t want you to be hurt or…”

Her voice broke as she slowly stopped searching the bag for a missing item that didn’t exist. Bucky reached out to her but didn’t touch her, unsure of whether she would let him or not. She decided for him and took his hand gently.

“Just… Just be safe.”

In an unexpected display of affection, James placed an airy kiss on her forehead, then grabbed the bag and moved towards the stairs to leave. Before going he turned to Pepper, who was staring at him with a surprised frown, and softly told her, “Take care of Anthony. I’ll be back with the prettiest fir and the shiniest star that exist out there.” He winked to Natasha, who stood at the edge of the room, and shouted, “And you take care of Pepper, Nat!”

He departed, descending the stairs with mixed apprehension and delight building in his stomach. He waved a little goodbye to Jarvis and smiled when the entity answered him with their usual serious tone, telling him to take care and come back soon since Anthony would be a mess without him.

Anthony, Pepper, and Nat witnessed him chanting on the shore, blazing in the morning light. He was dashing in his new, more practical clothes, which underlined his toned body. He had renewed his bun and bore two leather bracelets that Tony had crafted during the night; they could expand and be used as ropes, or traded, for they bore the gilded sign of the Crafter of Avalon.

A sour light encircled James and with a last look at the distant silhouette of the Tower, he began to walk on the waves. After a few meters, the mists swallowed him and he disappeared.

Pepper and Anthony exchanged a glance, and she spoke.

“You know, by the mortal calendar, this is the first day of Spring.”

“Hm, yeah, I know? Do you really think you mortals invented that?” he replied critically.

Natasha intervened, using the occasion to distract them from the distressing view of the empty shore.

“There is a huge festival taking place in town, and Anthony is supposed to make a public demonstration in the afternoon.”

“Huh? And you’re telling me now!?”

Pepper’s high-pitched voice echoed in the corridors, and all the crafters watched their boss being scolded by his attendant while the Widow followed them and added a few comments, worsening the situation. The three of them were smiling nonetheless.

Time would flow fast 'til winter.

**~°~**

Steve was feeling unwell. He didn’t know why, but there was an uneasy feeling that never left him. He had tried to transform back to human several times, and to draw to help him keep his mind off it, but it had only lessened the uneasiness that grew back again later.

His seal friends had explained to him that it was because they were due to move to a colder, more northern area soon, and that he just felt the pulling to the new place.

But Steve knew better. They had moved from place to place before, and though he had felt the pull, it had nothing to do with the lingering feeling keeping him awake at night now. It had become even stronger with passing days.So Steve was a bit cranky and had spent considerably more time in his human form. It helped, but not enough.

For the time being, he and his fellow seals were in a cold but luxuriant sea near a green land. There was magic in the air that Steve could feel thanks to his seal enhanced senses. It was without a doubt a divine sea, but so far that neither Steve nor his friends had encountered another magical being. There was the slight possibility that those magical beings didn’t want to be seen, and so went undercover. Considering they had only seen fishes, it was unlikely - being a fish was way too dangerous.

Steve had used a natural rocky cavity near the shore to establish his rudimentary basement.There was a couch made of dry algae, several flat rocks to draw on, and the piece of charcoal he had taken with him. He had been too reluctant to leave behind the only drawing tool he had found.

He was still transforming back into a seal whenever he needed to eat, but he spent the rest of his time on land, his seal skin carefully laid on his shoulders. He had found a nice spot above his basement where he could sit, watch the horizon, and draw the scenery under different lights at specific times of the day. He loved gazing at the mists reigning upon the waters a few meters away from the shore. They seemed almost alive to him, if not sentient. They were moving and whirling with hypnotising patterns. He often wondered what they were hiding. His seal friends didn't know, as they had always been too afraid of the mists to explore the waters.

Steve understood their fear - the mists were aggressive whenever he swam too close. The water had gotten icy cold - cold enough for him to feel the frostbite in his seal form, which meant the temperature had _really_ dropped.

Yet a part of him really wanted to know what was hidden there.

Thus, to assuage his busy mind and distract himself he had spent hours staring at the horizon, drawing several versions of it, and imagining what kind of fantastic land could lie behind the mists.

Today, he had woken up in his cave before dawn and had decided to witness the sunrise from his favourite spot, after eating some fish that he had caught with his seal form. He was standing there, hands resting on his hips, his outline drawn by the first rays of sunshine. The mix of the chilly wind and the rising sun made his skin feel weird, torn between cold and warm, and he was glad his seal skin covered his shoulders and back; the rest of his body was naked and still dripping with water.

As he was taking deep breaths, easing his mind and bringing calm into his head, a movement through the mists caught his eyes and he stopped his meditation to stare intensely at the waters.

He observed the most curious thing. At first he thought he was dreaming, so he blinked several times to make sure he wasn’t projecting something he wanted to see in the random motifs of the fog.But it was real; someone was walking on the surface of the water toward the shore. Steve wasn’t sure whether they were levitating or literally walking on water.

The closer the silhouette came, the more details Steve was able to pick up. He first heard the deep rumbling of a chanting low voice. He couldn’t make sense of what he was hearing, as the sound was mixed with the melody of the crashing waves and the distant cries of marine birds, but it clearly had a meaning to the singer.

Then he distinguished their clothes. They were practical travel clothes, and the stranger wore a backpack. Steve took advantage of the inability of his seal form to be blinded by sun reflection and scrutinised the singer’s garment. They wore a long dark cloak, several layers of different fabrics assembled into a tunic, and large inky trousers. Their hands were hidden by black gloves.

Steve guessed that the water walker was more likely to be a man, given his stature: broad shoulders and thick thighs. That was just a hint, but it was confirmed when Steve was able to see his features. Dark brown hair tied up in a simple bun and grey eyes coupled with a well-defined jaw.

When the man looked up to the spot where Steve was standing, Steve realized abruptly he could also be seen. Yeah, vision worked like that.

Not prepared to see another being and unsure of their intentions, he tried to back up quickly to hide, but tripped in his haste over a slippery rock covered with kelp and felt himself falling backward. With a strangled cry, he twisted and managed to land on his knees and hands, panting. When he stumbled back onto his feet and turned around to see the stranger, their eyes crossed paths and Steve blinked stupidly as the man strode toward him.

When he came near him, Steve was surprised by how deep his gaze was. It was capturing his whole attention and he could feel it searching his soul. The sheer intensity it held was almost frightening, but there was no hostility, only concern.

“Are you alright, young man?” He looked up at Steve. “Because I saw you falling from there and…”

His voice slowly drifted off as something caught up to him. In fact, Steve could clearly see two phases of realisation hitting him hard.He wondered what could be bothering the man.

_Oh_. Maybe the fact Steve was stark naked except for the skin on his shoulder explained the man’s reaction. He could pretend his seal skin was a fancy coat if the man were to question him, but it didn’t explain why he was naked.

Steve had thought about getting clothes to wear, but he hadn’t found any near the shore, nor any fabric that he could have used to craft something. Besides, he couldn’t remember what kind of currency humans used. He didn’t even know where he was. So staying naked was the easiest option for him.

But it was going to be hard to explain that to a stranger. Surely the man had some kind of magical understanding since he could water walk, but did he know about humans that could turn into seals?

Steve turned around, blushing furiously, and stuttered, “I-I’m sorry. I swear I c-can explain this.”

Hm, not exactly, but he had to sound convincing. Not like a crazy kind of nudist enjoying a sunrise with a dead animal's skin on his shoulder. Yikes.

He could hear the man suppress a laugh and almost jolted when he felt a brush on his shoulder. He tipped his head and saw the stranger taking off his backpack, then his coat, only to offer it to him. There was a slight blush on his cheeks and he was clearly determined to look at Steve’s face only.

The thing was, Steve wasn’t exactly bad looking. Because of the hours spent swimming as a seal he had a muscular silhouette and knew it had been an attractive feature back when he had been a normal human.

So he accepted the cloak and wrapped himself in it. The skin on his shoulder formed a little bump on his back, but at least he was covered.

“So I guess there must be a reason a man like you wanders naked and alone near the sacred shores, right?” the stranger stated calmly. With a slightly wrinkled nose, he added, “Oh! My name is James Barnes by the way, but you can call me Bucky if you want.”

Bucky it was, then. The name suited the stranger - but Steve wouldn’t have been able to explain why such a thought had crossed his mind. It was just… fitting.

“My name is Steve Rogers. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bucky,” Steve answered, returning the greeting. He wondered what to do next, since he couldn’t possibly bring the stran- _no, Bucky, his name was Bucky_ \- to his basement. He was looking at him when Bucky asked, “Are you, by any chance, a Selkie?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but closed it immediately. A what now? He didn’t know what that word meant. In fact, it was surprising that he could even understand Bucky. He didn’t know what language they spoke and how the hell he remembered; his memory was full of surprises.

Yet he didn’t know that word. His confusion must have appeared on his face because the str- Bucky added, “Oh, my bad, maybe you don’t know what that means. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

His features showed concern and Steve wanted to soothe him and tell him everything was alright. Before he could move, Bucky continued, “Can you transform, perhaps? Into a marine animal? I don’t want to confuse you and you must think I’m crazy, but your soul…”

His voice drifted off and he seemed very distressed, so Steve just said softly, “A seal.”

Bucky looked at him, his features betraying his uncertainty about what he had just heard. “I can transform into a seal. My skin is just there,” repeated Steve, pointing at the bump on his back.

“Then you’re really a Selkie!” Bucky exclaimed.

Well damn. Steve was a Selkie. What he was able to do had a name that a good-looking stranger taught him, while Steve was half-naked and both of them were standing awkwardly on the rocks.

What a day.

**~°~**

Several hours later, Steve was enjoying the warmth of the fire Bucky had started with the driftwood that both of them gathered. He had used his seal skin as a blanket and Bucky had left him for a few hours, apparently because he needed to go into the nearest town to buy some clothes for Steve. When he had returned, his backpack contained several layers of clothes.

Bucky had chosen for him a saffron tunic, a warm smoky black cloak matching his own, and two umber trousers. He had also brought back black leather shoes that fit him, much to Steve's surprise. The man was even more observant than Steve had thought.

For now, they were both sitting next to each other on the couch in Steve’s small cave, staring at the fire. Bucky had seemed on the verge of saying something several times, but he had remained silent and Steve was waiting for him to announce whatever he had on his mind. Besides, it had been an awfully long time since he had enjoyed the eye-catching movements of flames and he was thinking about how he could draw them with the plainness of a charcoal.

From the corner of his eye, Steve saw Bucky’s stance becoming more relaxed, his shoulders dropping as he drew a deep breath. Then, he spoke and Steve turned his head so he could see his face.

“As you may have guessed already, I am not entirely human either. I was sent by my master and friend, a Crafter God, to deliver a message and retrieve several items. I am to go to the North.”

He paused and licked his lips, his eyes flickering between the fire and Steve.

“Would you like to go with me?”

Well, _that_ was unexpected. They had only known each other for about six hours, and the man had already asked Steve to travel with him…

“I know it might be a bit sudden,” Bucky added with an apologetic smile, as if he had read Steve’s thoughts. “But you seem pretty lonely, and your seal clan should move to the Northern waters anyway. I just thought it might present a good opportunity for you to get familiar with… the modern world out there.”

He laughed a bit as he pronounced those last words, and Steve smiled with him. Clearly, he was completely out of date regarding human customs. To travel with Bucky would benefit him. It would allow him to explore more lands and to see more sceneries to draw. And if Bucky wasn’t as friendly as he had pretended to be, Steve could always run away — he ran quite fast on two legs, and could hide underwater as a seal.

As the thoughts twirled through his head, Steve knew his decision was already made: he was going with Bucky. There was something emanating from him, through his gestures and his posture and the way he talked and smiled, that both fascinated and intrigued Steve.

The water walker had secrets and stories and a strange kind of sadness surrounding him that pulled Steve towards him.

“I’m with you,” Steve plainly declared with a little smile.

The joy on Bucky’s face was so radiant that Steve couldn’t help but feel like he had made the right decision.

“Let me just tell my friends, so they won’t worry when they feel me gone, and I’ll be off with you.”

Bucky vigorously nodded and rose, heading to his backpack. With an excited voice, though he visibly tried to control it, he replied, “Take all the time you need. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Already searching for something in all his stuff, he looked back at Steve and stopped for a second. “Just before we go, if you let me, I will conceal your skin. That way, you won’t risk having it taken from you. I wouldn't let that happen anyway.” He resumed his search. “But we better take precautions.”

“Alright, thank you for helping me,” Steve replied, his voice filled with gratitude; he was touched by Bucky’s concern and offer.

He left Bucky to in his cave and headed out near the shore. Careful not to wet his new clothes, he walked a few meters in the water, 'til the waves were dangerously close to touching the trousers he had pulled up to mid-thigh. He held on to both them and his cloak, which kept swirling and clapping with the sea breeze. Tasting the saltiness of the air on his tongue, Steve slowly bent forward until his face was underwater and then closed his mouth and eyes tight.

Then, as accuratelyas his human vocal cords could reproduce the sounds, he began chanting and calling to his seal friends.

After only a few seconds, one answered him and Steve sensed several of them coming closer to him. They fired questions at him, asking why the skin he had on his back felt different and why he had several layers of skin he hadn’t had before. He laughed silently, careful not to let any air out of his mouth, while he tried to explain to them the concept of clothes. He also explained that he was going to be away from the water for a while, but that they would reunite in the Northern waters.

They immediately expressed their concern, but he reassured them, saying he wouldn’t be alone since he had met another human who had become his friend.

After he had chanted those words they became agitated, chanting between themselves at a quick pace, until one of them asked him,

“Is the soul taker the mate you’re referring to?”

Steve knew they designated things and people with different concepts than his human mind remembered, so he didn’t pay attention to the “mate”. However, he hadn’t expected the seals to have a specific concept to describe Bucky.

When he enquired about that, they became even more agitated and only the eldest seal of the clan answered him directly.

“He is of the fairy world. He takes human souls and bring them back to his master on the sacred land. He isn’t a danger to you, for you have a strong seal soul.”

The waters became devoid of their chanting as the elder finished and Steve was ready to head back to the shore, but the elder added, “You can trust him under the ice.”

Steve almost opened his eyes with surprise, to see the elder. That meant a lot. For a seal, getting trapped under the ice while hunting for food was one of the worst things that could happen. To trust another seal to show the way under the ice wasn’t something common.

A bit confused by what he had just learnt, Steve chanted them goodbye and then pulled his face out of the water. His hands full with his clothes, he shook his head to get rid of the water and open his eyes. He could feel the salt on his skin getting dry already.

Trying to understand what the elder had said, and the way they had described Bucky, he headed back to his basement.

Bucky was back on the couch, legs brought up and eyes lost in the void. He turned to Steve when the Selkie entered and dropped down next to him.

“Are they too concerned? Do you still want to go?” Bucky enquired, his grey eyes once again fixed on Steve’s and filled with concern.

“They said I could trust you. And they seem to know you.They called you a soul taker.”

Steve looked at Bucky when he pronounced those last two words, to catch any of his reactions. There was a hint of surprise that crossed his eyes, but Steve only saw resolve when the man answered.

“Yeah, you could call me that. Actually, it’s a pretty poetic way of describing my job, even though it’s a bit simplistic.”

He swivelled to face Steve and began to explain, the flames’ shadows reflecting in his eyes.

“I am a Banshee. That means I have the ability to travel in the gap between the Realms, where the dead souls go. My primary job is to usher the souls from their Realms to this split, so they can travel freely to the Soul Realm. However, I was offered a new attribution by a God, who is also my friend. Now I mostly escort souls, generally human ones, from their Realm to my friend’s place, where they can live and continue to exercise their talents if they want to. I also bring rest and comfort to the grieving souls still holding onto life when the Soul Realm calls upon them.”

His whole tirade was exposed with a calm, somewhat professional tone. He huffed as he added, “But I guess for a seal, a soul taker is quite accurate.”

Steve immediately asked, a bit suspicious, “Is this why you mentioned my soul when we first met.”

“I don’t recall saying that, but yes.If I did, it’s because your soul is very peculiar. The rope that ties you to life is made of two distinct materials, because you are part seal and part human.”

“Could you take my soul?” Steve asked.

The answer came, straightforward, without Bucky flickering or averting his eyes.

“No, I couldn’t even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I can’t take a soul that is bound to life by its rope. And my vows forbid me from harming someone intentionally to obtain their soul.”

He didn’t appear to be lying, so Steve eased up a bit. He nodded and smiled when Bucky asked, a little teasing in his voice, “Is that all you wanted to know?”

“Well, since I am going to travel with you, I am sure I will get all the answers I want during our trip,” Steve answered, returning the teasing.

The Banshee stayed impassive and continued, “I am going to conceal your skin, then. It won’t take long nor be painful in any way, but I’m going to need to touch you.”

He moved behind Steve and raised his hands near Steve’s shoulders.

“Can you remove your cloak and tunic and put your skin on your back like you did this morning?” Bucky asked kindly, his hands still held away from Steve, waiting for permission.

Steve obeyed and nodded at the silent question, granting assent for Bucky to proceed.

He couldn’t help but shiver a bit when Bucky’s skin touched his own. His hands were warm, probably thanks to the fire, and Steve could feel calluses on the palms.

He closed his eyes to relish the sensations and was almost overwhelmed by the intensity of Bucky’s voice when he started singing. It was the same sounds that he had sung in the morning, the same rolling and exotic sonorities. Coupled with Bucky’s soothing gestures on his shoulders and neck, it felt very relaxing.

Something was odd, though. Bucky had removed his gloves Steve had heard him, but one of his hands was far more callused than the other, the skin thicker and a bit colder. Had something happened to his hand?

Steve made a mental note to ask about it during the trip.

The Banshee’s chanting became louder, and Steve felt his own skin gradually warming up and tingling. The weight of his seal skin on his shoulders disappeared ever so slowly, and the surface that had been covered tingled.

Finally, Bucky’s hands stopped their mysterious patterns on Steve’s skin and the incantation ended with a last echo. Steve opened his eyes and stretched, feeling a bit weird.

As he scanned his body to determine what had happened to him, he suddenly noticed that the uneasiness weighing him down for days had _vanished_.

That was interesting, and a great relief. Maybe all he had needed to feel better was a Banshee’s incantation.

By the time Steve finished stretching, Bucky had put his gloves back on and Steve didn’t want to ask about his hand now, as it could be a sensitive subject.

So he dressed again while the Banshee explained how Steve's seal skin was now invisible and tied to him in a specific slit between Realms, which allowed him to transform in water without his usual ceremony. He observed Bucky extinguish the fire and smother it with sand. When he asked him about any personal items he would like to bring with him, Steve just grabbed his piece of charcoal and put it into one of his cloak pockets.

The ocean could take away his drawings on the stones; he couldn’t possibly carry them with him.

With a last look at his basement and the shore, Steve followed Bucky on a rocky path 'til the land became progressively greener. His legs were slowly warming up with the effort, and his whole body was vibrating with excitement.He was going on an adventure, as a man, with another man that was also a soul taker. Maybe it was a bit reckless, but Steve felt optimistic and determined to enjoy every aspect of the trip. His skin was concealed and couldn’t be stolen, he had clothes, and the elder seal had told him he could trust his mate.

What could go wrong?

**~°~**

Bucky had the tangible impression everything was already going out of control. He had, before his departure, told Natasha that there was a soul calling him and that he would take care of it before giving her his burden.

He had followed the rope tying the soul to life and admired it's dual nature. It had been strong and still holding onto life, but that hadn’t worried him; sometimes something happened just before he arrived. Whenever he was called, somebody’s soul was about to slip through the Realms.

Yet, when he had stepped foot on the dry human land and seen the silhouette watching him from above, he had faltered. Not only had it been a rather attractive young man who also appeared to be entirely naked, but the calling he had felt had vanished into thin air as soon as Bucky had laid his eyes upon him.

Which was an absolute novelty for him. Usually the calling disappeared when the soul slipped into the void between the Realms.

So he had tried to get away a bit by pretending to go to the nearest city, just to see if the pulling would appear again because of the distance. It hadn’t, even when he had moved from Realm to Realm, hidden in a quiet and empty part of the land between the Selkie’s basement and the town.

A bit intrigued, and softened by the appearance of the man and his Spartan cave, Bucky had offered travel with him. Better keep an eye on the person responsible for such an outlandish event; it was the best way to find out why his calling had been fulfilled just by having the Selkie in sight.

For now, they were walking in the countryside at a good pace. Steve wore his new clothes with ease and style, and hummed from time to time, peeping around and smiling widely at any new sight.

Bucky was a bit worried about Steve’s shoes, since it must have been a while since Steve had worn any. But judging from how thick and dense his skin was, it didn’t seem a likely problem.

The memory of the concealing ceremony came to mind. Steve’s shoulders had been muscular yet soft, and his blond hair, almost golden white because of the salt and marine air, had felt like feathers in Bucky’s hands. Bucky was unsure about whether Steve had sensed the difference between his two hands. He had tried to keep his fingers light to trace the concealing patterns, but he might have been distracted. It had been aeons since he had touched another being, apart for holding the hands of the dying he had escorted, and the occasional sparring with Natasha.

And Bucky wasn’t really tactile, but the genuine trust with which Steve had offered him his back had been as startling as it was heartwarming.

He adjusted his backpack and hummed in rhythm with Steve. The sun was in the middle of its descending course; they had a few hours of walk before settling down. Maybe Steve didn’t need to settle down and sleep as much as a human did, since his body ran like a seal’s.

So many lingering questions about his new travel companion! The travel was going to be interesting, to say the least.

**~°~**

Thor wasn’t really happy with Loki’s new mischief, the God had discovered. He couldn’t quite say he was surprised really, since his brother had always been at least annoyed, if not enraged whenever he had been the victim of one of Loki’s tricks.

But this one had been clever — as were all the others — but he was far from stupid.His mind had done wonders out of boredom.

He had conceived a quite astute plan. Thor, in his dutiesas ruler of Asgard, had been supposed to welcome an official delegation from Muspelheim. They had been due on the first day of Spring, meaning today, and a splendid celebration had been organised.

How unfortunate it had been when the message in which the date had been specified had been lost and conveniently replaced with another, indicating _almost_ the same date, just two days earlier. What were two days in a God’s existence, really? Merely a glimpse, a second lost in their lives. So had it really mattered?

The thing was, two days before Spring was officially announced in Asgard every year, Thor went on a huge hunting party. With his fellow warriors he hunted down monstrous beasts, ate, and drank a lot.

Even though it was always a pleasure for the eyes to witness Thor hunting down something or babbling heart-sickeningly sweet words after another bottle of liquor, the Muspelheim delegation had expected a king on his throne with regal presence.

Instead, they had gotten crushed in the warm and spontaneous embrace of the massive blond Asgardian when the Bifrost had closed behind them.

Things had gone well after that. The Muspels were a nation of fierce fighters, thus they had enjoyed jousting with Thor and his warriors. They had shared bread and alcohol, both sacred symbols of hospitality, and they had left content and reassured about the might of Asgard’s ruler.

Yet Thor, once he had sobered enough to speak coherently again, had stormed into Loki’s apartments and shouted about everything that could have gone wrong during the unplanned hunt with the Muspels.

_Nothing_ had gone wrong. Yet Loki had been sent to a remote place in Asgard, to keep an eye on and magically protect a fir forest. It was a special place, filled with ancient magic, and there had been a few incidents. Some witnesses had mentioned a dragon - but there weren't any dragons in Asgard, and besides, Heimdall would have seen it anyway.

Thor had been concerned about it, and since he had wanted his brother away for a while to keep Asgard’s court safe from his mischief, Loki was now reduced to living in a little wood cabin, searching the trees surrounding him until he found what the cause of the incidents.

How ungrateful of Thor. And how foolish to think _distance_ could prevent Loki from plotting. Did he ever learn?

At least Loki had had the chance to arrange the cabin the way he had wanted to, thanks to his magic. There was an everlasting blue fire burning in the hearth. A comfortable couch was hidden under the roof up a ladder, and Loki had even added a functional kitchen. He didn’t eat meat often, so he loved spending hours harvesting his own food whenever he travelled. He had just done it yesterday, so the kitchen was full of small fruits and roots. For today, the first day of Spring, he had a little ceremony to perform to adjust to Nature’s new flow and keep his magic balanced.

Maybe after that he would write a letter to Anthony, to inform him in elusive words of his intentions to come to Avalon once more — enough to hint without revealing. Revealing was not fun.

He would try to come by the end of the year, but he could wait longer. What were months for a God?

There were nothing, except for a God whose heart was calling for another that was away.


	3. Travels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve travel to Asgard. It doesn't go as smootly as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the biggest chapter of the story! I added two side characters that I didn't tag because they are barely mentioned, but can you guess who they are?
> 
> Thank you for Ruquas for organising the event and giving me the opportunity to write, and thank you for alittlewicked for their lovely prompt which helped me creating this. It was a lot of fun! I hope you still like it.
> 
> And thank you for my beta, emptydistractions, without whom this would have been way harder to read for you.
> 
> I hope you enjoy~

Bucky might be emotionally compromised. It had been about six months since he had left Avalon’s shore and safety and had encountered Steve. They had travelled through the Human Realm, for it was the easiest one to wander into. Steve had been a nice travel mate, resourceful and respectful of Bucky’s boundaries.   
And yet! Bucky felt more and more attracted to the man. They had lived through things that had cast a new light on the Selkie. 

For now, they were in Loki’s wood cabin. Snow was swirling outside the windows and the wind was howling in the trees. Asgard’s weather was a bit aggressive for what was technically still autumn, but they had been warned about it. Yet, Bucky was glad they were in a safe and warm place to stay. 

Steve had fallen asleep in Loki’s bed hours ago when the sun had sunk down, exhausted by the day. Bucky had stayed wide awake, sitting next to the fire and glancing from time to time at the couch where the Selkie was peacefully dreaming. He had the little piece of wood he had begun to carve during the trip, and his knife. Carving helped him focus properly and he needed the clarity to examine his feelings.

Knowing the night was still young and that they would have to wait for the Trickster God to return before moving on, he dwelt upon his memories and let himself lose all control on the present to fully immerse himself in the events of the last months. 

First there had been this time, only a few days ago after they had started to move, when Steve had transformed for the first time with him. Bucky, being a Banshee, had a rather slow metabolism and didn’t need to eat as regularly as a normal human. Apparently, Steve was almost the same, but since he hadn’t been used to walking that much in such a short amount of time, his body had consumed his energy faster than Bucky’s body. 

So when Steve’s stomach had growled ridiculously loudly in the middle of their day they both had been startled and ready to fight against whatever had made that rumbling noise. Their laughter had echoed in the forest that they had been crossing when they had realised their mistakes and Steve had noticed a peculiar echo, one that could have been caused by water. His seal senses had proven quite useful during the trip, but this had been the first time Bucky had witnessed it and damn, it had been amazing.

  
Steve had asked him out of the blue to sing in various tones, which had been a convenient opportunity for him to demonstrate his vocal range. Then, by tilting his head from one side to the other, Steve had guided them through the forest, sometimes cursing under his breath against the birds singing or the trees cracking. That had made Bucky smile, to see the Selkie shooting angry glares at innocent and cute-looking birds, and Steve had looked at him with a mix of embarrassment and annoyance, which hadn’t helped him at all to stop smiling. 

They had walked for about half an hour before seeing it. It had been an alluring reflection at first, some glitters catching their eyes. The more they had approached, the more hints they had noticed. The heavy organic scent of the forest had become lighter and had given the way to a more aquatic, fishy odour. The tree species, mostly oaks and birch trees, had become sparse and been replaced with smaller ones and bushes. 

  
Eventually they had arrived quite abruptly near the lake. Its silver surface had glistened under a gentle breeze. Steve had closed his eyes and had taken deep breaths, probably to relish the sensations, since he had not seen a lake since his transformation.

  
It had been a freshwater lake so Steve had warned him beforehand that he couldn’t stay in for a long time when they had talked about the possibility of him transforming to fish. Thus, their plan had originally been to fish near the lake but Steve’s stomach hadn’t stopped growling. At some point, while Bucky had been securing the handmade fishing rod with the hooks Pepper had put into his bag — farsighted, this woman — he had heard the Selkie muttering “Screw it!” and had seen him throwing his clothes away on dry land and running into the water. 

  
They had slept during the nights before, because the weather had been quite chilly and they had been in no hurry. They had taken turns and Steve had asked for the second half of the night and had always awoken before Bucky could have the occasion to wake him up himself, which meant he hadn’t had the opportunity to see Steve either changing clothes or sleeping. The man had been wrapping himself in his cloak with absolutely no part of his body out for the wind to bite.   
Thus seeing the Selkie all but stripping and running stark naked in cold water hadn’t been something Bucky had been ready for. He had blinked once or twice then averted his eyes, only to hear the footsteps of Steve running and a joyful splash of water. 

When he had turned again a grey seal had been peeping at him, its chubby head emerging out of the crystalline water. It had chanted, a quite lovely sound, and with a soft “plop” it had disappeared under the surface. 

  
Bucky had waited near the rods, admiring the view and trying to spot Steve underwater. From time to time he had seen bubbles coming out but he hadn’t been able to distinguish anything, and his attention had started to drift away when a raw living fish had landed on his feet and immediately started to writhe. Just when the Banshee had bent to catch it before it could reach the water again, another fish had startled him by almost hitting him. 

  
He had shot an annoyed glare at the lake but hadn’t been able to suppress his smile when the grey seal had jumped over the water with a gleeful chant.   
He had had the time to finish the two fish and to collect branches in order to start a fire near the spot where Steve had left his clothes before Steve had come out of water.   
It had begun when the seal had come closer to the shore, a fish trapped in his mouth. Its shape had become blurry and fluctuating. The next moment, Steve had stood naked with a fish in his mouth that he had promptly spat into his two hands. 

Maybe that had been the very beginning of Bucky’s doom. Because he hadn’t been able to avert his eyes. He had tried, really, because privacy and intimacy were concepts he valued and respected. 

  
But the way Steve had walked back to him, entirely oblivious of the fact that he had been stark naked, had been mesmerising. It had been a confident strut, tainted with pure glee and a hint of mischief — probably because of the fish throw. The water, being soft, had washed out part of the salt that had covered Steve’s skin and hair, and he had literally been glistening in the light. 

  
Of course, the Selkie had eventually realised his nakedness and had hurried up to catch his clothes, while Bucky had feigned to be focused on the fire preparation. They had eaten without talking much, both of them enjoying the moment and admiring their surroundings. Bucky had thanked Steve for his hunt. Even if they had parted from their initial travel trajectory, they had won a good amount of time by hunting instead of having to buy something in a human village.   
Bucky had added some seeds and dried slices of vegetables he had carried with him, so the meal had been consistent enough to last for a couple of days for the two of them.   
They had resumed their walking, but something had shifted in Bucky’s mind. The Selkie had moved from “nice-looking” to “actually attractive”. Bucky hadn’t known it yet, but it had only been the beginning. 

**~°~**

Several days later, they had reached one of the humans big cities. Bucky had wanted to buy Steve a knapsack like his own, to allow him to carry whatever he would have liked to. This city was also a contact point for Anthony, who could have sent letters for him.

They had arrived in the middle of the morning. Bucky had made sure his gloves had been well-adjusted. He had already scared humans because of the appearance of his left arm during his previous solo trips, and Steve still hadn’t known about it.

The closer they had gotten to the city, the more people they had encountered. The vast majority of them had been nice, if not welcoming, and had greeted them both.  
Now that Bucky thought about it, they really had looked like miserable travellers who had spent too much time out in the wild. Especially Steve, who had sported fully furnished facial hair and a rebel mane.

They had entered the city without any problem. The guards at the main gates had asked them the reason for their stay, and Bucky had answered honestly. He had really been, after all, a messenger charged by his master to deliver a letter in the Northern territory.   
They hadn’t needed to know that his master was a god and that he himself was not quite human, right? 

Bucky was used to humans cities. They weren’t exactly clean, and some areas always had offensive smells; the kind that obliterated one’s sense of smell as soon as they reached one’s nose. He hadn’t expected Steve to be so badly affected nor to react in such a contained and polite manner.

The Selkie had first stopped and faltered when the smells had hit them. Thy had needed to visit the fairy postal warehouse, which had been conveniently located in an empty rear courtyard near other warehouses. However, to reach that place one needed to cross the market streets, which were the absolute worst. Every possible smell flourished in those streets and was mixed with the others in atrocious combinations. 

Bucky had halted as well to see how Steve had been coping, and he had been surprised by the speed with which Steve had regained his composure and had become heavily interested in their surroundings, probably to keep his mind busy and to prevent himself from analysing the smell.

Bucky had also been worried about losing Steve in the crowd, since the city’s population had been so dense. Yet the Selkie, being broad-shouldered and tall enough not to get mistaken in the human crowd, had followed him easily. People had been cautious not to push him or walk on his feet.

And Bucky… well Bucky walked like an assassin, Anthony used to say. To Bucky, walking with a determined stern face and large steps didn’t make someone an assassin, but people acted like he was one anyway.

Together, they had crossed the crowd like a sea. They had almost reached the postal warehouse and had been crossing quieter, smaller streets when a lady had called to Steve from an upper window. The “tall blond guy”, she had named him. She had been outrageously dressed and her goal had clearly been to entice Steve to come up the stairs.   
Although Bucky had been ready to intervene, Steve had just turned to her, waved and exclaimed “Not interested, but you’re sure lovely!” He had wished her a nice day and she had thrown him a flower — a white lily.

Bucky had wondered what Steve had meant by “not interested”. Because it had been a woman or a human? He hadn’t dared to ask and now wished he knew the answer.   
He remembered feeling a bit confused when they had reached the warehouse, torn between hope and curiosity. 

The keeper of the warehouse had let them in when Bucky had shown the two leather bracelets marked with Anthony’s personal sigil. Cackling about the “good old days” he had spent in Avalon, the keeper had handed the Banshee a letter and Bucky had recognised Anthony’s handwriting. He had stored it in his cloak.

Then he and Steve had waved the keeper goodbye, and they had headed back to the market streets to find a knapsack. The sun had ascended by the time they had arrived and the hustle and bustle had worsened. Most people had come to find something to eat.

Steve had stopped him to explain that he could smell the fabric of his knapsack and try to trace it, instead of blindly searching the streets. He had thus taken the lead and offered Bucky a piece of his cloak to hold to be sure not to lose him in the crowd.

Bucky had had the distinctive feeling of being a little chick following its mother hen, but the tactic had payed off. Steve had successfully guided them to a crafting stand where knapsacks similar to Bucky’s had been exposed, and at a reasonable price. 

The brunette had started to negotiate nonetheless, since it was the custom in most human markets. He had always been quite talented at this little game of firing prices and arguments at the merchant. The owner of the stand, a young thin adolescent with innocent features and curly brown hair, had clearly been a complete beginner. He had explained how he had crafted every single knapsack, the tedious process of making them waterproof, light and comfortable to carry anywhere, and all those explanations had been potential justifications to raise the price. Yet, he had been baffled by Bucky’s tone when he had offered a certain amount lower than the displayed price, and had only stuttered and handed over the knapsack.

Maybe Bucky had been slightly too intimidating. He had felt guilty for buying it at such a low price when the boy had seemingly put his heart in the crafting — and the knapsack had indeed looked great. With a sigh, he had given the displayed amount of human currency and had been rewarded with a copious amount of thanks that he hadn’t really heard because Steve _hadn’t been next to him anymore_. 

While struggling not to panic, Bucky had hurriedly thanked the boy, then thrown his own mind into the Soul Realms, desperately trying to find the mixed rope of the Selkie amongst all the human ones. The boy, maybe guessing something had gone wrong because of the look on Bucky’s face, had informed him that “his tall friend” had left in that direction, pointing toward what had looked like a scribe’s stand. 

Bucky had thanked the boy, more sincerely this time, before dashing to the stand and mentally examining all the ropes surrounding him until he had spotted the one that he had been searching for. Pushing through the living stream of people, he had reached Steve’s cloak with both hands and had stared at him, completely winded.

It had turned out that Steve had told him he had wanted to see the scribes stand, but Bucky hadn’t heard him at all. The Selkie had found a way to acquire a batch of drawing sheets and coloured inks in vials. He had firmly refused to explain how he had done it, considering he had had no human currency to pay the scribes. He had only winked at the scribe that handed him his new possessions, a woman with the same blond hair as Steve and a wide smile, who had just giggled and winked at Bucky in return.

He had never asked Steve what he had traded. Right after this event, he had been too angry at Steve and himself and had spent the rest of the day brooding. Steve had sensed his annoyance and had apologised and let him walk ahead in silence. It hadn’t been 'til the following day that Bucky had realised it hadn’t been Steve’s fault but rather his own, and that it had been no use to blame anyone, for Steve had been safe and sound.

So after they had walked 'til the sun had set down, Bucky had apologised too and explained how he had felt worried by the mere thought of losing him in the crowd.

He had felt responsible for the Selkie, whom he had selfishly taken away from his known environment only because something odd had happened with his own powers.   
Steve had heeded, his blue eyes fixed on the Banshee’s face. He had reiterated his own apologies, saying it had been reckless indeed to separate from Bucky, especially in such an unknown and crowded place. He had had good memories of towns and how they were designed, but still. 

That night, when Bucky had taken the first watch of the night, after Steve had shifted and turned a bit to find a decent position to sleep snuggled as in a cocoon in his cloak, the Banshee had taken the letter the keeper had handed him and had gently opened it.

He had first been surprised then pleased to discover several sheets, ones he had identified from Anthony but also two others covered in a tidy, precise handwriting. Bucky had seen it a bit while at the Island, mainly in little notes addressed to Anthony. Pepper had written him something. 

He had started with Anthony’s letter, prioritising the news from his master. New information could have been added to the mission and he had needed to know.

He had sat closer to the fire to get enough light to decipher Anthony’s writing, which incidentally had seemed even worse than the version that Bucky had been used to. Maybe the God had been in a hurry.   
It had started like this, all written in the fairy alphabet to prevent any human from reading it by accident: 

“James, 

I hope you’re well and sound. I know it has only been a couple of weeks since your departure, and I’m not sure you will take the time the cross the city I’m shipping this letter to.

Anyway, if you read those words, here is some news from Avalon and the Tower.

First, I attended the Spring Festival with Pep and Nat. It was as lovely as the previous editions, and Pep was absolutely delighted by everything — which almost made her forget her wrath towards me, since I hadn’t told her about my official demonstration. I thought of you, by the way. Do you remember your suggestion for the goat's fence? The crowd loved it. I also played a bit with the new light setting I managed to implement in the orbs. I wish you were here so I could show you. This human metal is full of wonder!

After that, I headed back to the Tower but Nat decided to show Pep the unmissable and indispensable (her words) parts and exhibits of the Festival. I personally recommended the Shield bar, since they have great cocktails, but Nat just glared at me — you know the glare, the killing one.

Your long departure caused many of the souls you brought back to enquire about you almost every day. Nat told me she felt you encountering a mixed soul. I think it was a Selkie she mentioned. I hope they are friendly and not too weird. Do they smell like fish? Are they as handsome as all humans legends describe them?

We discussed the matter with Pep and others in the crafting department, and it appears they are supposed to lure humans with their handsome features. Which means… Did you find a cutie?

Regarding your mission, nothing has changed but finding Loki might be more difficult than expected. I received a letter from him yesterday. Because he has tricked his brother again, he is in charge of a magical forest up North in Asgard. Maybe it’s a fir forest though. That would be a nice coincidence.   
Nothing else relevant happened here, only the usual irruptions of Nat with one of your souls and the order to prepare the Summer Solstice — can’t people just calm down for a minute?

On a side note, I think Nat might have a crush on Pepper but she threatened to kill me last time I tried to talk about it. Do you think you could talk to her when you’re back?

Alright, I’ll end here. Take care my friend, and may your travel road be large and clear. 

Anthony”

Bucky had smiled and almost laughed while reading; Anthony’s letters were literally a piece of his thoughts written on paper: a bit incoherent, disordered, and vivid.

It had been a pity that Loki hadn’t given the name of the forest to Anthony — or maybe he had, but the Crafter had forgotten to write it, which had been likely to happen.   
Bucky had then taken Pepper’s letter. It had been a bit shorter and way easier to decipher. At least she had written in regular lines, not like Anthony… 

“Dear James, 

Tony and Natasha told me about you encountering a Selkie. I hope you’re aware of the fact that they can charm you, but I’m sure you are, given your experience with magical creatures.Your wood panel is lovely by the way.

But it’s not the subject. I’m writing you this letter to ask you a favour. Natasha had told me she liked a special kind of flower that grows only on Avalon; a White Bride she called it. Do you think you could indicate to me where I could find one? She is very busy taking care of both her souls and yours, and I would like to cheer her up.

Be careful out there, take care and be back soon!

Virginia”

A smile had bloomed on Bucky’s face again — if Anthony had been right about Nat then it would have been a wonderful occasion for her to find love. He could easily understand; Pepper was clever and witty, but also caring and really efficient with her duties, including when she had to protect Anthony from another of his crazy ideas. If her love had carried the same strength as her professional attitude, Nat had found the partner she had needed.

As he had taken the blank page Anthony always sent with his letters when he wanted an answer, he had discovered a small note hidden in between pages. On it had been written with another fairy alphabet only Nat and him knew in Avalon “Stay safe and greet your new Selkie friend for me.”

Well, all his friends had decided to send him something, apparently.

He had written his answer, smiling during the whole process, and later given it to an owl’s soul he had found about two days after, to carry back to Avalon.

**~°~**

After that, their travel had been rather uneventful, 'til a certain point. They had slowly grown used to the other’s habits, and Steve had taken advantage of the various lakes they had encountered to fish.

His hair had become darker, closer to a light brown rather than the shiny blond the salt had given him before. He had sported a luxurious beard matching Bucky’s too.

They had developed a kind of routine day after day. Bucky would wake up before dawn by himself, most of the time to find Steve either looking at him or bent over his drawing sheets. While Bucky would stretch and gather his belongings, Steve would put back his sheets and inks in his knapsack.

Sometimes they would eat some berries and roots Bucky would pick. The weather had been kind enough to allow sufficient harvest for them both. Sometimes Steve would transform and fish for them, shivering in the cold water when he would come back as human.

After that, they would walk almost all day long, at a good pace yet in no hurry. Bucky had planned his itinerary before leaving the Island, so he had known where to head, villages after villages, towns after towns.

Seldom, the sun would be too high and too bright, the air too heavy. Seldom, it would be the complete opposite, the air thick with mist and rain, the wind howling and chilly. They would halt under the shadow of a tree or in an abandoned or empty barn for a few hours, discussing their lives before they had met or lazily sleeping next to each other. Bucky had never mentioned the point of his trip, as he had preferred to talk about Avalon and share stories of Anthony’s ideas.

He had found himself lying next to Steve, close enough to hear his breath or see his eyelashes flutter with each drawn inspiration. They would blame the cold whenever waking up, deeply apologising when they had found each other really close, but it had been less convincing when the sun had been high in the sky.

The nights had become shorter and the sky clearer, to the point that they could walk during the night until they would be too tired to continue. They would quickly set up a small fire and start their watch. 

Those times had been among the nicest of all the travels Bucky had done since he had been reborn as a Banshee. The sheer simplicity of their interactions had been refreshing, and the absence of humans around them had been a huge relief.

It had climaxed when they had reached the harbour town where they had needed to embark on a ship to cross a strait before finally setting foot on the Northern Lands.

They had arrived at the gates of the town after noon. The strong smell of the sea had hit them in a wave. Steve had mentioned it the day before and had warned Bucky that they were close. Indeed, the air had been colder and damp; they had put their cloaks in their knapsacks and Steve had pulled up his sleeves. Bucky had been too reluctant to show Steve his arm, the anticipation only worsening every time he had thought about it.

Steve’s hair had been slick with sweat. Bucky remembered staring at his neck, where a hair strand had drawn the contours of his throat. 

Together, they had entered the city without any trouble and Bucky had led them to the postal warehouse. A letter from Anthony had awaited them and the keeper, a goblin this time, had informed them kindly that it had been delivered a week before they had arrived.

Just after that, they had headed to the docks to find a ship that could take them to the other side of the strait. Steve could have crossed on his own with his Selkie form, but Bucky had been too far from Avalon to water walk like he had done the day of his departure.

They had finally found one. “The Falcon” and its captain had accepted to take them on board in exchange for one of Anthony’s bracelets for his partner. He had complimented them on Bucky’s wrist as soon as they had set foot on the deck. The ship had been due to leave the next morning but considering how the other crews had received them, either by asking enormous amounts of human currency or by simply refusing them on the behalf that they had looked like pilgrims, it hadn’t been so bad.

They _had_ looked like pilgrims. Steve had had glorious facial hair and had fully recovered his natural light brown hair colour. Bucky had had the same length of facial hair, but his hair had been long enough to be braided, when Steve would just pull back the longest strands every morning. 

The captain of the ship had offered them to spend the night on the ship, which they had both accepted. But before settling into their cabin, they had had all afternoon to wander in town. So they had. 

The streets had been large and cobbled, and the town had been divided geometrically. They had explored the dock and tried to guess ship's names — they hadn’t guessed any right. Sailors were too inventive when it came to names, especially of their ships.

They had next walked further into town. Steve had admired everything with his usual glee and innocence, which had contaminated Bucky.   
However, after having been almost attacked by a merchant armed with a broom who had called them thieves and scavengers, they had resolved to shave. It had seemed a rather sound resolution. Not only would it have given them a more suitable appearance, but it would also be more convenient with the hot days coming.   
So they had headed back to the ship.

The new sailors had greeted them and welcomed them on board with gentle manners. Steve had taken advantage of the conversation to ask for a mirror, since there hadn’t been any in their tiny cabin and neither of them carried one with them. One of the sailors had handed him a small one, along with a smaller soap and a towel. They all had laughed when Steve had imitated the merchant shushing them aways with his broom and Bucky’s annoyed frown. 

Charged with the lent items, Bucky and Steve had headed to the bow of the ship near the barrels of soft water. The sailor who had given them the mirror had told them with a heavy accent that they could use the water to wet the soap and rinse once they would have finished, but with parsimony.

Bucky had started. He was used to shaving by himself in the Tower, even if the soap usually wasn’t as coarse, but he hadn’t complained. The sailors already had had the generosity to lend them their personal items and it had done the job.

With precise, swift movements, he had wet his beard and started to cut the hairs with his own knife. Steve had been holding the mirror in front of him and had appeared mesmerised by the process, his eyes following every move. When finished, Bucky had rinsed and then asked Steve how he had looked.

The Selkie had stuttered before answering.  
“You look… better.”

Realising what he had just said, he had added, red creeping up his neck,   
“I didn’t mean you didn’t look good before. I mean, you’re amazing with the beard, but you look different without it and I think I like it better like that.”

The red had crept even higher and he had handed the mirror to Bucky, seemingly to prevent himself from talking and compromising even more. Bucky had been surprised and flattered. Steve had found him good-looking and had liked him with and without his beard. He might have been blushing too and slightly distracted, but the way Steve had held the knife to shave had brought him back out of his reverie immediately: Steve had been on the verge of cutting himself.

“Do you remember how to shave, Steve?” Bucky had asked suspiciously.   
“Erm… I thought I could imitate you, but it seems I overestimated myself ” the Selkie had answered, looking a bit guilty. Bucky had offered to shave him, not realising how close they would be.

By Morgana, they had been really close. Steve had sat cross-legged on the deck, his beard shining with tiny water drops and soap bubbles. Bucky had taken his knife and hovered over Steve’s face, then started shaving him after Steve had given his consent.

He had had his gloves on despite the warm day. Steve had been considerate enough not to ask any questions, and Bucky had considered wearing his short-sleeved tunic without gloves and without explanation, convinced Steve wouldn’t even say anything, but he had feared the sailor's look.

So when Steve had closed his eyes, his breath even through his parted lips, Bucky had immediately taken advantage of the situation. Because the bow had been empty and all the sailors occupied at charging supplies in the hold, he had taken off his gloves. With infinite precautions, he had resumed the shaving, relishing the sensations his wooden hand perceived. 

Steve’s skin had been warmed up by the sun, and softer than what Bucky had imagined. A gentle marine breeze had made his hair flutter and he had wrinkled his nose when a hair strand had teased him, almost making him sneeze.   
“Stop moving, I don’t want to cut you,” Bucky had growled before adding,   
“And don’t answer me or I’ll definitely cut you.”

Steve had exhaled softly, his eyebrows frowned and his jaw clenching, forcing himself not to speak. Bucky had smiled and resumed, admiring all the details of the Selkie’s features. His skin had become tanned and his lips had been cracked.

Bucky had realised he had come really close when he had felt on his face Steve’s breath. But the Selkie had been relaxed and trusting, not even faltering under the cold touch of the blade and Bucky had felt strangely moved by this trust.

Only the sound of the cracking wood and the flapping fabric of the sails had filled the air. 

When he had finished, he had tucked the towel in the water and rinsed the irritated skin. Steve had stayed very still, not even opening his eyes when Bucky had gone away to reach the barrel.

Steve had asked with a teasing tone, his eyelids fluttering,   
“Can I talk now?”

Bucky had glanced at him even though it had been no use, and had answered in the same tone.   
“You can, but without opening your eyes.”

In answer, Steve had raised his hands to the sky and clasped them dramatically on his thighs. Bucky had put back one of his hair strands, which had been tempting him since he had started. 

After that, he had allowed Steve to open his eyes and had witnessed his surprise and glee at the sight of his newly revealed skin. The Selkie had admired his work, turning his head to both sides, bringing his hands to his face to feel the new softness of it.   
His joyful and sincere appreciation of Bucky’s work had warmed his heart.

Together, they had given back the mirror to the sailor who had been tying up ropes and had congratulated them on regaining a more human appearance — little he had known. 

To spend the rest of the afternoon in a useful way, they had both volunteered to help the sailors on getting the Falcon ready. They had been charged with checking the sails and the ropes, testing the hull’s sealing and dozens of other small chores they had tended to with great care and diligence, eager to learn. They had accepted a bit of bread but declined the soup offered as meal, since they hadn’t needed it and wanted to preserve the crew’s food supply.

The captain, Sam, as he had eventually introduced himself, had led them to their cabin just under the stairs leading to the hold.

They had been surprised to find their bags in it and Sam had informed them that one of the sailors had brought them when he had spotted them left on the deck. Bucky had told Sam to make sure to thank the sailor, they had exchanged good night vows, and Sam had taken his lamp with him, leaving them in the darkness of their cabin.

Bucky had been able to distinguish two beds on each side with thin greyish blankets on top of it, but Steve and he had stumbled towards the same bed, which had led to a rather embarrassing moment of them oscillating between the two beds before Bucky had said out loud, “I’ll take the left one.”

Steve had stopped and considered the statement before genuinely asking, “Which left?”

It had earned him a snort and a gentle shove on the shoulder to move him to the right side, from Bucky’s point of view. 

They had changed clothes in the dark, the faint sound of the fabric mixing up with the creaks of the hull and the distant discussions of the sailors still on the deck. Neither of them had knocked the wall. Bucky had learnt after that that Steve could see in the dark as long as there was a single ray of light, thanks to his seal senses.

Now, he realised the Selkie might or might not have averted his eyes when he had changed, and the thought made his heart race.

But back then, he had just thought Steve had been really observant about his surroundings. They had exchanged good night vows and had settled into their beds, which had been more comfortable than the usual floor and cloak combo.

Bucky had stifled a sloppy laugh when Steve had said softly, “My shoulders are too broad. I can’t sleep on my back.” Slowly drifting away, exhaustion finally hitting him hard, Bucky had answered, “That’s good. You won’t get to snore.”

He had let go when Steve had retorted with fake indignation, “I don’t snore!”

Bucky hadn’t known what had woken him up. Maybe his body had decided he had had enough sleep. He had opened his eyes in the dark, at first slightly confused about the lack of stars in the sky, before he had remembered where he had slept.

Just when he had been settling back to sleep, he had noticed the absence of breath near him. Only silence had answered him when he had asked “Steve?” to the obscurity. Anxiety had bloomed in his chest and his mind had started to wander immediately.

What if Sam hadn’t been as friendly as he had appeared to be? What if a sailor hadn’t been human, had noticed the Selkie, and had decided to steal his skin?   
As he had tried to calm down and stop freaking out, he had dashed outside and had almost bumped into Sam. Completely impassive, the captain had just told him, “Your friend is up in the crow’s nest. Said he couldn’t sleep.”

Bucky had thanked him, a bit shaken by all the dreadful scenarios his mind had built up, and he had hurried to the mast, climbing the ladder recklessly.

The tide had come and the ropes maintaining the boat near the docks had been taut and creaking faintly, as had the wood of the ladder with each new bar he had climbed up.   
Up the mast, in the tiny platform usually used by sentinels, Steve had been dozing and had acknowledged his presence after a few seconds of staring at him with a blank gaze. Bucky had sat cross-legged next to him, breathing fast, and had stayed still, the sounds of the boat filling up the silence. 

He had started shivering not long after, since he hadn’t thought of taking a blanket with him in his frenzy and had only worn a light tunic, even if it had been long-sleeved. As soon as he had noticed, Steve had offered him to come closer and share a bit of the blanket he had brought with him; all of that in a low, sad voice.

Once Bucky had been sitting closer and felt his body temperature rise up again thanks to both the blanket and Steve literally radiating heat, Steve had spoken.   
“I’m sorry I didn’t warn you when I headed out. It’s just…”

His voice had broken, filled up with emotions Bucky hadn’t quite identified. Not knowing how to help the man but determined to comfort him, Bucky had answered, pressing ever so slightly his shoulder on Steve’s.   
“Hey, you do what you want, I’m not your guardian. You’re a grown man and I’m just a bit too paranoid.”

It hadn’t seemed a good idea to mention that the mere absence of the Selkie had made Bucky go wild for a minute, right? That had just been amplified by the fact that he had just woken up, right?

Steve had leaned into the touch, his skin communicating heat with Bucky’s, who hadn’t felt cold anymore. With a sigh, the Selkie had added,   
“I guess I just miss my shore and my friends.” He had continued immediately, “Don’t get me wrong, I love travelling with you, and I’ll forever be thankful for the opportunity you offered me. But it feels a bit weird when I think about what I’ll do next, once we are finished. I’m not sure…”

Steve hadn’t ended his sentence, and Bucky had tried to fill up the blank himself.

“I’m not sure I want to travel with you anymore? I’m not sure it was a good idea to accept in the first place? Or rather I’m not sure I want to leave you after all this?”

He had said the last one jokingly, but the thought had made his heart race again. In an attempt to distract himself and to save the Selkie from answering his question, he had finally explained to him what he had been sent to do, since he had never talked about it before.

He had given him details about the growing relationship between his friend and the Northern God, and about Anthony’s personality, and the ensuing responsibility on his shoulders regarding the fir and the star he had to bring back.

When he had finished, Steve had relayed him, talking about his life as a seal, all the secrets of the ocean he had discovered thanks to his pack and all the sweet memories he had made with them that he hadn’t mentioned on the days they had talked about it.

His deep, soothing voice had soon become a lullaby to Bucky’s ears and the Banshee had warned him facetiously, “I’m sorry, but I’m about to fall asleep.”  
Steve had paused in the middle of his story, turned his head to look at him and after a second he had asked tentatively, “Do you want to come closer, so that you won’t be cold?”

His voice had trembled ever so slightly, but Bucky had decided to blame the exhaustion — that he had felt too — and he had sleepily agreed.

He had snuggled in Steve’s open arms, encircling his waist and laying his head on Steve’s chest, right under his chin. The Selkie’s breath had moved his hair with every expiration, and the sensation had been so nice that he had let out a little hum of content. The strong arms holding him and grounding him had tightened their embrace, and he had finally succumbed to Morpheus’ call and had fell asleep. 

The sun hadn’t woken them up nor the departure from the docks — they had learnt later that the captain had insisted on letting them sleep, preventing the sentinel from going up and leaving with the minimum amount of shouting; something that had been rather unusual for the sailors, but they had all happily complied. They had become quite fond of their two passengers.

Bucky had awoken first, feeling itchy and stiff, but held in a close and warm embrace. At first he hadn’t remembered the events of the night, and he had wondered why he had been so uncomfortable and how he had been able to hear seagull's cries so distinctly.

Then he had also questioned his memories about the warm living being he had been hugging, and he had blushed when his mind had given him the answer.   
His heartbeat had echoed in his ribcage and he must have moved because Steve, cuddling him, his head resting on his shoulder, had whimpered.

A bit concerned about the Selkie, Bucky had moved his limbs with great effort, doing his best to ignore the numbing pain. His wooden arm had obeyed easily and he had soothed Steve’s back to help him coming back to his senses, all embarrassment long forgotten.

Steve had stirred with another whimper without letting go of Bucky, his muscles flexing around Bucky’s chest. His head had risen and his eyes had fluttered, still covered with the mists of sleep.

When he had crossed Bucky’s gaze, a smile had bloomed on his face and he had asked, his voice dripping with sleepiness,  
“Slept well?”

Bucky had raised an eyebrow and replied sarcastically,   
“One of my best nights. I love waking up all stiff and feeling like an old man.”

Steve had blushed and smiled apologetically while stretching. Then he had dropped, dead serious,  
“Next time will be in a bed, then.”

And Bucky had stayed flabbergasted by the sheer confidence of the Selkie, who had climbed down the ladder without adding anything.

  
The travel had gone smoothly after that. They had both tried to help the sailors, and Bucky had had the opportunity to witness and admire Steve’s agility when he had seen the man climbing up the net to the sails.

He had also taken a moment to read the letter that had awaited him. It had been closer to a note rather than a real letter. Anthony must have been in a hurry, probably engineering something new and still not working, judging by the stains on the paper and the lack of a blank page for Bucky to write back.

It had stated, in a scratchy and messy writing:

“Hey Buck. Hope you’re still alive. Nat is courting Pepper now, officially. A bit scared by their combined power, must admit. No news from Loki, guess he’s still in his forest. Good luck, stay safe, and greet your friend for me. Dying to meet him in person when you come back.”

That had explained the shortness of the letter. The idea of Nat and Pepper being an official couple had made him smile, content for them both. He had put down a mental note to find them a present and not to bother Nat again now that she had the wit of Pepper on her side. Anthony had been right, it had been frightening.

Bucky had considered Steve’s and Anthony’s first encounter and had concluded after a few seconds of thinking that he would make sure not to be there, while finding a way to prevent Anthony from telling Steve embarrassing secrets right away. Because, Anthony would. 

**~°~**

They had accosted in the town on the other side of the strait in the late afternoon. All the sailors and the captain had bid them a warm goodbye and wished them a safe travel. The ship hadn’t been moored since the town had only been a stopover to depose the passengers. Bucky had descended first, thanking all the sailors for their hospitality and patience.

Steve had exchanged a few words with Sam before jumping down the ship, not even considering the ladder Bucky had used. He had landed smoothly and had adjusted his knapsack before gesturing to Bucky to lead the way in a mockingly courteous manner. 

They had resumed their travel, falling back into the same routine.

Well, almost the same routine. Something had changed after the night they had spent up the crow’s nest. They had bonded and a kind of intimacy had appeared between them. They would share physical contact more often, sometimes stare for a moment and smile. On the human Summer Equinox, they had been crossing a small city and had been caught in the Festival celebrating the day.

Bucky had used the opportunity of being surrounded by fairies and tree-like disguises the locals had crafted to finally reveal his arm. As expected, Steve hadn’t said anything. He had only examined it discreetly, careful not to stare too openly. When a crowd movement had pushed them close, Bucky had offered his arm to Steve who had taken it with infinite precautions.

The arm couldn’t shiver, for it didn’t have skin and hair, but the wood had constricted and moved under Steve’s fingers. He had looked at Bucky with round eyes, mouth full of questions but too considerate to ask about it.

While they had navigated through the city, pushed and pulled by the joyful crowd, Bucky had explained the creation of the arm, how he could feel with it, and its particularities. Steve had laughed loudly when Bucky had described to him how his arm had grown a flower — the Banshee had been grateful it hadn’t happened again during the trip. 

He had left his arm visible during the rest of trip, hiding it only when they had had to come close to human homes. When they had reached the Northern coniferous forest, human presence had become scarce and Bucky would leave his arm entirely free. He had sometimes caught Steve looking at it with fascination, and it had made his heart flutter and his chest constrict with a strange kind of elation. 

**~°~**

After the Summer Equinox, the nights had inexorably shortened and the more they had gone North, the colder it had been, despite some warm and sunny days they had enjoyed. Steve in particular had decided to walk bare chested, to “tan” as he had said. Bucky had secretly admired the swift and gracious movements of his muscles under his skin; they had appeared soft and rather enticing to touch.

The first night it had frozen, they had built a small hut and lit a fire in the centre of it. They had been sitting cross-legged on opposite sides of the fire. Steve had wordlessly taken his knapsack and put it next to Bucky before lying next to him, his back touching Bucky’s hips. His eyes had searched for Bucky’s approval and when they had received it, he had gone to sleep. 

It had soon become a part of their routine, them sharing heat and comfort but never sleeping together because of their watches, as Steve had jokingly remarked.

They had had to slow down to search for a more convenient place to stop when it had begun to snow. At first some snowflakes falling tentatively, then for some days a continuous curtain of snow.

Walking had also become harder and more tiring for them, but their mood hadn’t shifted at all. Bucky would wake up with the sun near Steve, sometimes by the feeling of the Selkie’s hand resting on his back or chest depending on how he had slept.

They would gather their belongings, stop the fire by smothering it with snow, drink a bit of melted snow prepared beforehand, then take off, stubbornly walking up North, enjoying the eerie silence and the rare birds occasionally singing. The forest would provide them roots that Bucky had taught Steve to harvest, or they would lay traps during the night if they had needed more.

From time to time, Bucky would sing old rhymes of Avalon, or some that Natasha had shared with him. They had felt appropriate considering the landscape surrounding them; the trees covered up with snow forming fantastic statues, the chant of the wind, and the cracking of the snow under their feet.   
Steve would join him, harmonising his voice with Bucky’s, and that too would bring a special elation to the Banshee. 

On a particularly snowy day, the sky almost as dark as night, the forest had abruptly ended. Bucky had noticed first, his senses not as overwhelmed by the blizzard and fog as Steve’s, who had been blindly following him, struggling to protect as much of his body as possible from the biting cold and invasive snowflakes.

The reassuring presence of the trees around them had vanished and the wind had seemed to attack them with redoubled aggressiveness. Bucky had halted to use his remaining bracelet to tie himself to Steve, fearing losing him in the tempest. After he had expanded the bracelet, sending a mental thanks to Anthony for his foresight and talent, they had attached it to their waists, checking the ties carefully.

Bucky had then broken a branch from a lonely tree standing in the middle of the chaos and had scanned the floor with it before every new step they had taken together.

The wind had been howling furiously, whipping them with ice on every inch of their unprotected skin.

Bucky hadn’t been sure where to hear, nor how long they had battled again Nature’s fury to move forward, to set one foot in front of the other. After what had felt like hours, he had sensed a slip between Realms and a massive amount of energy surrounding them and awakening. Fearing a creature called upon by Steve’s soul, he had turned around to catch Steve in his arms, moved by an innate impulse.

When his arms had encircled Steve, who had grabbed him by the shoulders in response, Bucky had felt their presence switch from the human Realm to another, guided by the energy that had frightened him. A blinding light had surrounded them and Steve had buried his head in Bucky’s neck, protecting his enhanced vision. 

When the energy’s signature had dissipated, Bucky had let go of Steve, a part of him calling at the absence as soon as he had pulled away. It had taken him a few seconds to realise that the tempest had stopped and that they had been in a gilded room vibrating with energy.

A tall, dark-skinned man had stood up on an equally gilded platform, a huge and dangerous-looking sword in his large hands. When he had set his gaze on Bucky, the Banshee had shivered under the scrutiny of his melted gold eyes and he had understood who the man in front of him was: a Guardian of the Realms.

At the same moment the man had spoken, his voice echoing in the room and through all Realms Bucky had been able to feel.

“Welcome to Asgard.”

**~°~**

After a warm shower and a comforting infusion, Bucky had felt much better. His dripping clothes had been put near a fire to dry properly and he had been given Asgardian clothes by Thor’s servants, dedicated to any of Bucky’s whims by order of the King.

The Guardian — Heimdall had been his name — had led them to Thor’s castle and had summoned the King, something only a Guardian had enough authority to do in Asgard.   
Thor, a big, muscular, blond, typical Asgardian, had welcomed them with a strong, almost painful embrace and had decided to invite them to a banquet to celebrate their coming.

To be able to attend the banquet, Steve and Bucky had needed to clean themselves and dry, for they had literally been dripping with melted snow on the gloriously ornamented entrance of Thor’s castle. 

Bucky had suited up with his new Asgardian clothes; he had been given a warm crimson leather tunic and adjusted black trousers and high leather boots, along with a kind of deep blue cape that he had attached to his shoulder with a tiny chain.

He had gone out of his quarters with his new shoes tapping on the floor with a very satisfying and loud sound to meet Steve who had been in the quarters next to his. Thor had had the presence of mind not to separate them, as Heimdall had told him how they had held each other close when he had activated the Bifrost.

Anthony had warned Asgard about a Banshee coming, which had explained why Heimdall had been able to transport them so quickly. The Guardian had told them that they had risked their lives in the tempest, for it was a magical one protecting the Bifrost access on the human Realm.

Bucky had sent a mental thank you note to Anthony again; the man knew how to take care of his friends. 

Steve had been waiting for him in front of his quarters door. He had been dressed in a similar fashion, but with a sand tunic and no cape. Nope, no cape. Instead, Steve had sported a brown mantle with similar brown boots.

His hair had been still wet from his shower, framing his features in the dim light of the corridor. In all the gilded surroundings, he had looked regal and certainly not as out of place as Bucky had felt, which had made Bucky halt to take a good look. He had wanted to capture an image of the Selkie, standing alone with vulnerability and at the same time a dazzling easiness. 

They had attended the banquet with Thor and his closest warriors after a servant had guided them through the maze of corridors, halls, and stairs that was Thor’s castle.

The banquet room had been heated up with a roaming fire in a massive stove, and had warm and bright carpets covering the floor. On them had been embroidered great deeds of Thor and his friends, including a seemingly recent one with Muspels and a giant wild boar.

The blond Asgardian had told them about it while they had eaten lavish Asgardian specialities. 

Bucky had warned Steve to decline any offer of alcohol, as Asgardian liquors were famous for getting non-Asgardians drunk really fast. Obviously enough, the others at the table had drunk rather generously and when Thor had slammed his mug on the stone table, shouting that he wanted to fight one of them, Bucky had known they might have drunk a little too much.

He had readied himself to decline the offer with all due courtesy, knowing that neither he nor Steve could have stood a chance again Asgard’s king. But he never had had the occasion to speak, as Steve had collapsed on the floor near him, like a puppet with cut strings. 

Bucky had immediately jumped to his side, followed by Thor, who had looked through the Realms to see if it had something to do with the concealing, or Steve’s soul. A cold shiver had run down his spine when he had realised Steve’s rope had been severed in two, the seal part and the human part torn apart.

Steve had remained unconscious despite Bucky’s shouts and shaking to bring him back. Panic had been crushing Bucky, for he had never witnessed something like that on someone’s rope. 

In the middle of the ambient chaos, a slender, light-skinned and black-haired man had materialised in the room. Bucky had recognised Loki, who had looked exactly like Anthony’s descriptions, when the god had touched him and Steve’s forehead and had shouted to the others, “I will be taking these two with me!”

After that, he had felt a literal crack between the fabric of Asgard’s Realm, into which Loki had pushed them. Wooden walls and a blue fire had appeared, surrounding them, and Loki had gently sat Bucky on a chair before he could fall to the floor.

Bucky had tried to reach Steve again, desperate to bring back the light in those blue eyes, but Loki had maintained him on his chair with godly strength.

The Trickster God had spoken softly while kneeling next to Steve, his hands hovering over the unconscious man.   
“I know why your friend is in such a state, rest assured.”

“Can you do something about it?” Bucky had inquired a little too loudly, his heart still beating erratically in his chest.

“I have the power to help him, but to complete my healing your assistance will be necessary,” Loki had answered, his tone even and soothing. He had cast a brief look to Bucky, his green eyes shining with the reflection of the flames.

Bucky had inspired deeply and had declared, leaning next to Loki,  
“Anything you need.”

Loki had touched his hand with care, and had made him take Steve’s hand. He had explained later that Steve’s core had been unbalanced between his seal nature and his human one. The imbalance had likely been there since the beginning, but the concealing of the seal skin had helped — it had prevented the worst from happening, in fact.

The transport through the Bifrost had ruined all of that by creating a disharmony between each half of Steve’s soul.

With Bucky’s power as a Banshee, Loki had mended the broken parts of Steve’s soul, chanting in a language Bucky hadn’t recognised. Through his Banshee’s perception, Bucky had observed Steve’s rope becoming one again.

Loki’s magic had flooded through him and he had felt emotions that hadn’t been his, he was sure of that.

There had been pride and joy, an overwhelming, almost childish joy. There had been relief and something warm and powerful that had brought tears to Bucky’s eyes because of its intensity. 

It may have lasted for hours, or for a second, but when it had ended Bucky had felt drained. Loki had risen on his feet, even paler than he had been before, a bit shaking, and had declared.

“I fear I need an infusion right now. Do you want one?”

Bucky had shaken his head dismissively, eyes fixed on Steve’s face. He had noticed his eyelids flutter, and suddenly the Selkie had opened his eyes and gasped, reaching for someone.

Bucky had caught him in his arms, stroking his back with circular patterns and murmuring reassuring, though incoherent words in Steve’s ears.

Steve had been trembling and breathing raggedly but had slowly calmed down. His heartbeat had slowed down to the point that Bucky hadn’t been able to perceive it and eventually he had let go of the Banshee to look around him a bit.

Loki had chosen this moment to come back with two cups of a scented infusion, and Steve had made a bewildered face at the God until Bucky had explained it all to him. They had sat at the table, a nice upgrade after the floor, and Steve had been holding Bucky’s hand, grounding them both.

“The imbalance might have been life-threatening to Steve, which is why you felt the calling to his soul,” Loki had started before taking another sip of his infusion. Steve had held the other cup with his free hand.

“But then you met him and by offering him to travel with you, you set his soul on another course. The concealing helped.”

“Until the Bifrost took us here,” Bucky had stated bitterly, his mind racing with how close he had been to losing Steve over something that stupid.

“He wouldn’t have died, only stayed unconscious until his soul was mended. Besides, I felt your signature as soon as you arrived and I was dying for an excuse to leave my cabin.”

“I don’t know… I don’t know how to thank you enough,” Steve had intervened, his voice tight.

The god’s eyes had glistened with something and he had answered, his voice low and slightly teasing.

“Maybe explaining the reason that brought you here and giving me the letter you carried with you would be a good starting point.”

He had waved his hands and their knapsacks had appeared on the table. Without faltering, Bucky had caught his and had reached for the letter, safely protected in a waterproof compartment.

With great care and ceremony, he had handed it to Loki, who had taken it with some kind of hunger and excitement that had made Bucky smile. Anthony had found something that loved as much as him his little game of surprises.

Steve had coughed and winced, and the god had immediately offered him his couch, arguing that the Selkie had needed to rest properly and that he had needed to go out anyway — probably to read the letter alone. 

**~°~**

And that had been how Bucky had found himself sitting on the floor in the middle of the night, watching Steve sleep and realising that he had fallen in love with the Selkie. Fallen really, really hard.

The thought made him both uncomfortable and light-headed, filled with elation and some irritation directed towards himself. How could he be so blind?

He shifted his weight to his other side to avoid getting stiff and resumed his contemplation, idle and content. Now laid a complicated part: telling the Selkie about it. Bucky was positive it would be reciprocal, given all the little attentions Steve had provided him, but how to be sure?

The hardest part would still be to find him a Christmas present. Bucky glanced at the seal statue he had been carving. It had been based on Steve’s appearance, and Bucky was quite proud of the resemblance.

Maybe that could please Steve. 

**~°~**

When Loki came back to his cabin only a few hours before dawn, he found James sleeping on the floor, curled around something that seemed like a wood piece. With a sly smile, he materialised a couch near the fire and gently levitated the Banshee onto it.

He then sat at the table and tried to think about how to help James fulfil Anthony’s wishes while giving him a valid occasion to escape Asgard and come to Avalon for Christmas.

Surely it was possible: he had 'til dawn to find something, and he wasn’t a God of Mischief for nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The boy who crafted the knapsack is based on Peter Parker, and the captain of the Falcon is obviously Sam Wilson. Congratulations if you found out!
> 
> The white lily thrown to Steve represent innocence and purity. Yep, I chosed it on purpose.)


	4. A Dragon, a Hammer and a Fir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki needs Steve and Bucky to find him a reason to leave Asgard. Steve is full of surprises and Bucky meets an old acquaintance. Also, greatness doesn't always come with appearance and there is a horse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Penultimate chapter for you! 
> 
> As always, thanks to Ruquas for her dedication to the event, and thanks to everyone who participated in the Exchange (go read, see and listen to their gifts, they are all amazing!). 
> 
> Many thanks to my beta, emptydistractions, who corrected all my dumb mistakes at unearthly hours. All remaining mistakes are solely mine.

Steve was floating in a warm ocean. His whole body felt relaxed, and he let out a small sigh of contentment. Ever so slowly, he opened his eyes and blinked several times to adjust his vision to his surroundings. He was in a small bed with a soft blanket, large enough to cover him from head to toe. He wriggled his toes, enjoying the feeling of relaxation and _peace_ that his body held.

Above him was a wooden ceiling, the beams dark and massive. He sat, careful not to knock himself, and discovered he was in an raised alcove. He still wore the clothes Thor’s servant had given him.

_Oh_. Right, Thor. The banquet. The pain, the terrible, excruciating pain he had felt. It had started with the same uneasiness that he had felt before encountering Bucky, so he had thought he just had to ask the Banshee to check the concealing, but it had gradually worsened.

Because he had felt really out of place at Thor’s court, entirely oblivious of all customs and decencies common to Asgard, he had preferred to attend the banquet before asking Bucky to examine him. Apparently his body had decided that it couldn’t wait. The pain had reached its climax during the banquet, and he remembered trying to get up and falling. After that, only darkness filled his memories. Until the discussion with Loki.

Right, Loki had saved his life. And Bucky had been there to catch Steve when he had awakened, disoriented and scared of the absence of the pain and of the prospect that it might return. He had drunk something Loki had offered him while they had talked, then… Did he go to sleep just like that? In the bed of their host?

Well, apparently it seemed like it.

He stretched, humming slowly at the feeling of his muscles awakening and enjoying the warmth of the room, a sharp contrast with the tempest that he and Bucky had crossed. That had been the worst part of the travel by far, and Steve had been so relieved when it had stopped and the Guardian had welcomed them.

His ribs still hurt from Thor’s hug. The Asgardian was a lot stronger than he seemed, and he already appeared muscular and powerful. Maybe Steve fainting at the exact moment Thor had demanded a fight wasn’t such bad timing after all.

He searched for a way to get down from the alcove and found a ladder. With infinite caution, he descended and landed silently on the floor. He took a second to look around and discover more of Loki’s house.

There were three rooms, and given the appearance of the walls, it was closer to a wood cabin than a real house. The room he was in had a wood table surrounded by three chairs and a quietly burning fire with blue flames.

Wait, blue flames? How enchanted was Asgard, exactly? Steve made a mental note to ask Bucky about it, since they hadn’t really gotten to discuss that. He knew about Avalon, the fact that it was a living island and that magic flowed through it, but Bucky had never mentioned blue flames.

Near the fire was a couch with a person still sleeping on it, breathing evenly. Steve recognised Bucky’s silhouette and smiled, remembering how the Banshee had hugged him and had held his hands, anchoring him. There was a chance Bucky shared Steve’s feelings, given all the little interactions they had shared. Steve would have to ask him about it. But for now, the Banshee deserved the sleep, after all that Steve had put him through.

The second room Steve chose to visit was a kitchen, simple and well-organised. There were berries and washed roots in a pot, and two other pots stamped with signs Steve couldn’t decipher. He guessed at least one of them contained the leaves of the infusion Loki had prepared the night before. He left the other one, not wanting to intrude in Loki’s personal belongings.

The last room looked like a bathroom, but contained only a small square tub and a wooden bucket with no trace of water anywhere. Steve shrugged, guessing it was probably another thing that required magic.

He almost shouted when he turned around and found Bucky sitting on the corner of the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and looking at Steve with a sleepy smile.

“Slept well this time?” Steve asked when he had regained his composure.

The Banshee shrugged with a small laugh.

“Better than last time you asked, but I don’t think half as well as the time you promised me,” he answered, gaze fixed on Steve with a tiny smirk and a tease in his voice that made the Selkie feel all warm.

Was this was how they played now? Bucky seemed so assured with his teasing Steve chose to think it was on purpose and his heart jumped when he realised that meant his feelings were likely to be reciprocal.

“I don’t intend to back down on my promise, but I don’t have a bed to offer you right now,” Steve countered, and that made Bucky laugh louder this time.

“I guess you have to go to Avalon with me, then. Anthony wants to meet you and my bed is huge.” He winked at Steve with the last four words and Steve focused hard on not blushing, wanting to appear as calm and composed as Bucky was in this game of flirting.

'Cause that was flirting, no doubt lingered now.

“I’m afraid I have something that will require your help before you can leave.” A silky voice interrupted them, startling them both.

Loki was standing at the entrance, a grin on his face. Behind him, trees — _firs_ — were covered in snow, and snowflakes were slowly falling in a hypnotising dance. A cold breeze made Steve shiver before Loki closed the door and sat at the table, gesturing for them to do the same. When they had obeyed, Loki made a quick, elaborate movement with his hands and the fire in the stove suddenly burned higher and brighter.

“I wouldn’t want my guests to catch a cold because of the temperature,” Loki explained with a smile when he caught sight of Steve’s surprised face. The Selkie made an appreciative hum and sat further back in his chair.

“You said you needed our help?” Bucky enquired, seemingly determined not to get distracted, and probably more used to displays of magic like that. Steve wondered what Anthony was capable of. If Loki had fallen in love with the man, that meant he surely was capable of wonders. And since Bucky had invited him — that was an invitation, right? — he would have the opportunity to see it.

He brought his attention back to what Loki was explaining.

“Well, as my brother may have recounted the story to you, you are aware that I was sent here because unexplained events have occurred here. I am supposed to find an explanation and prevent them from happening again.”

Steve wasn’t quite sure he liked where Loki was going, and the next sentence proved his feeling right.

“Luckily, I now have a Banshee and a Selkie with unique abilities; some that could even prove to be the key to solving my problem.”

Steve exchanged a quick look with Bucky and surreptitiously nodded at the silent request that Bucky made. _Let me talk first_.

“I was sent here to deliver an invitation for you and to bring back a fir and a star. If I can help, I’ll gladly do so,” Bucky stated simply.

“As for me, I’ll gladly repay you to the best of my abilities,” Steve added, remembering that Loki had saved his life.

The God looked at them both, lingering surprise on his gracious features, and then let out a small laugh.

“I identified the problem a long time ago, but my powers aren’t exactly made to solve it. I was in the middle of preparations for a ritual before you came and I think you, James, won’t need it to help me. As for you, Steve, I think your sharpened senses could complement mine on the search for a fir, but first I need you to make the case for me.” He paused, looking at Steve, who nodded his agreement to participate.

“If I am to go to Avalon, I need a valid reason to leave Asgard. My position at the court prevents me from travelling freely. But if you can convince Thor that my presence is _necessary_ in Avalon, he’ll gladly let me go.”

Steve crossed his arms and considered the idea. Go to the court. Surely he could do that. Convince Thor to let Loki go? That was less easy. But he wasn’t going to admit his defeat before he even tried. He owed that to Loki, after all.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do, but I won’t leave Thor a respite before he agrees to let you travel with us,” he answered with a smile, and Bucky smiled too.

~°~

Loki was proud of his two guests, though he wouldn’t openly admit it. They had agreed to help him because of what he had done, and it was rare that anyone genuinely appreciated what he did. Anthony had been the exception for so long, enjoying the illusions of Asgard that Loki had shown him the night they had met.

He had laughed at Loki's sarcastic comments on Thor’s companions and even compared him with Avalon’s nobles. He had felt appreciated for what he was that night, and that feeling had persisted through every letter he had received, through every little bit of attention, silly drawings, or detailed schematics that Anthony had sent. Soon they would see each other again, for _Christmas_.

That was something nice that humans had created. Loki didn’t need a special occasion to share presents with people whom he held dear, but this gave him an excuse to show his appreciation for Anthony. The God shivered when he thought about what he had prepared during the night, the present he had designed for the Crafter. That in itself was worth all the trouble.

For now, he was walking within Yggdrasil’s roots with Steve. He had left Bucky to wander in the forest for the troublemaker, the “dragon” witnessed by the locals. Steve had asked him to go with him see Thor. Loki could understand; the poor Selkie wasn’t exactly familiar with the court, and Thor could be intimidating.

The God had warned Steve about the travel through Yggdrasil. The first time he had been unconscious so there had been no risk for him, but now he could easily slip in the void if he was not careful. The Selkie had obediently closed his eyes and blindly followed Loki. The fabric of the Realm had distorted and they set foot safe and sound in Thor’s court.

The guards stationed at the main doors didn’t even flinch when they appeared in front of them, long jaded by Loki’s little tricks. They diligently led them to a waiting room that Loki knew all too well, but Steve let out a silent _“wow”_ when he entered.

The room had been designed by Loki to make people uncomfortable while waiting and to display Thor’s might. There were no seats, for a warrior didn’t need one. There were no windows either, so that people waiting would lose track of time. The walls were gilded and featured Odin and Thor’s greatest achievements. The door leading to the throne room was made of stone, and Thor would open it with one hand when he wanted to show off. It was also enchanted against most physical attempts to destroy or alter it.

Steve sat cross-legged on the floor, not embarrassed in the slightest. He looked at the ceiling, which was as ostentatious as the rest of the room, and said to Loki,

“Your brother sure knows how to make people wait.”

Loki snorted and said, more bitter than he would have liked,

“Actually, I am the one who designed this room. Thor knows how to open the door, and…” Loki sighed, trying to repress his bitterness. “He is learning. He would prefer to fight all day and enjoy a simple life with his friends, but unfortunately he can’t have that, so I am helping him the best I can.”

Steve stared at him with acute attention, then said with a soft voice, “You did a great job then.”

He laughed silently and added, “But from what I heard during the little time I was conscious at the banquet, you don’t always help him.”

“Well, I must admit I need to stay entertained.”

Steve laughed again, and Loki let himself smile. He really liked the simplicity of the man and the way he enjoyed what he could at any time.

“For now, I think you should prepare to wait. The fact that I am with you will likely make Thor wait longer before receiving you than if you had come alone” Loki explained, sarcastic again.

Steve reached for his knapsack, which he had insisted on taking back from Loki’s cabin, and took out what seemed like drawing sheets and a small piece of charcoal. He tapped the floor to invite Loki to sit next to him, and the God raised an eyebrow and materialised two comfortable chairs, one directly under Steve, which made the man flinch then let out a nervous laugh.

Loki carefully sat next to Steve, who adjusted his position to have his drawing sheets spread on his thighs and stated, his voice trembling a little,

“I don’t think I can get used to that kind of magic, really.”

Loki _laughed_ again — when was the last time he had laughed so much? — and for his own pleasure, materialised a blanket on his shoulders, noticing how Steve flinched and then smiled, enjoying it.

He took a better look at the drawing sheets, and felt surprise when he saw James’ face spread on the paper, his expression fond, his hair blown by an invisible wind. It was like Steve had captured a perfect image of the instant James had made that face.

“ Did you… did you draw this?”

The Selkie blushed a bit before answering.

“Yes, I did. It’s not as good as I would like it to be but since I have to find a Christmas present for James, I drew him during the best moments of our travel. So that he could look at them years from now and remember.”

Steve proceeded to show him the various drawings he had made. Some included pieces of landscape, some were close-ups, but they all featured James. James sleeping in various positions. James looking at the horizon on a boat. James laughing with someone on a boat. James eating a fish. James…

“Do you love him?”

The question had spurted through Loki’s lips and he hadn’t really wanted to ask it, but he was curious to know the answer, though he had serious doubts.

Steve blushed crimson red, and his hands clenched before he realised he held his drawings. He relaxed, smoothed the paper and responded, avoiding looking at Loki,

“I think I do.”

He sighed, a quick deep sigh, and added,

“I do.”

He raised his head to look directly in Loki’s eyes, and for a second Loki was taken aback by the resolve he could see in the bright blue of the Selkie’s eyes. It was as if the man dared him to judge him and his love, as if he didn’t care for Loki’s opinion.

A wistful smile stretched Loki’s lips when he realised it was the same intensity that Anthony had held in his eyes when he had wished him goodbye in Avalon and promised him that they would see each other again. How lucky James and he were to have such passionate lovers, really.

An idea struck him and he blurted out,

“Could you draw me? For Anthony?”

Steve blinked before nodding with enthusiasm, shuffling through his drawing sheets to find a blank one. He prepared his charcoal and looked at Loki. Not, not exactly looked. He analysed Loki, and the God could almost see him picturing his drawing, and the whole process. Just before the charcoal touched the paper, he turned to Loki and enquired,

“Actually, like this? Or in a different position?”

Loki’s mind may have pictured things he couldn’t really say to Steve, so he just nodded and slightly adjusted his cloak. Steve took out several bottles of coloured ink and a wood feather that he placed around his chair. He stuck his tongue out and looked at Loki, then started to draw.

His movements were swift but soft. Loki was spellbound by the way his own face, then his silhouette appeared on the paper. At first it was only contours and evocative shadows. Before he realised, he was on the paper. Steve drew him smiling, his thin lips curved upward and little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He took his inks and brought colour and vibrant life to the portrait, dipping the tip of his feather in the bottles with ease, sometimes hesitating or changing bottles at the last second. Soon, the eyes of the portrayed Loki shone with life, his clothes gained texture and depth. Steve started to hum, and when he plugged all his bottles and handed the sheet to Loki, the God knew it was finished, and it was a masterpiece.

He felt almost dizzy contemplating his portrait. The realism of it was breathtaking, and he had the impression his double was going to jump out of the sheet to smile at him.

He looked at Steve, tried to thank him but found himself speechless. Steve understood his emotion and grinned at him.

“Your face alone tells me how much you like it, don’t worry. My pleasure, actually.”

Loki cast a glance at the drawing and ever so slowly rolled it, then enchanted it to keep it safe from anything that might happen. He rose from his chair and bowed in front of Steve, who observed him, slightly embarrassed but pleased by the homage.

Behind them, the massive stone door creaked and moved, and Steve jumped to his feet while Loki made the chairs vanish. He winked at Steve and whispered,

“I should have you with me more often when I wait here. You make time flow really quickly.”

The Selkie let out a soundless laugh and murmured back,

“I don’t think you could bear me that long, and besides, I have someone I want to be with. But again, it was a pleasure drawing you and if that made your wait easier, then my job is done!”

Loki straightened his back and stood tall before Thor, who as expected opened the door with one hand and in a listless way, as if it was little effort for him. Truth was, it wasn’t really hard for him but he liked to show off a bit, especially when it came to physical strength, an essential attribute of Asgard’s warriors.

Loki bowed again, not as deeply as he had for Steve, and the Selkie imitated him with accuracy. When they rose together, Thor waved them through the door and walked to sit on his throne, his crimson cape regally floating behind him.

Mjölnir had been placed in the centre of the throne room on an altar. That was a reminder for Loki and he smirked, admiring how his brother had remembered his lessons, finally.

When Thor finally sat on his throne, his cape spread behind him, he put his knuckle under his chin and asked, his deep voice rumbling in the room,

“So, what is it that you needed, Selkie?”

Steve clasped his arms behind him and replied with a respectful tone that Loki had never heard before in his mouth,

“My King, as you may have heard, your brother here saved my life. In accordance with Asgard’s rules, I owe him a life debt.”

He paused and took a few tentative steps into the room, his heels clapping on the floor, before continuing.

“I came here with an official representative of Avalon, sent by the Royal Crafter of Avalon, the Man who wields Iron. He has the intent to celebrate a human invention called Christmas, which requires, among other things, a fir and a star. That is what motivated our coming here.”

Thor was all but scrutinising the Selkie, who wandered in the room while talking. Loki noticed the King getting tense when Steve came closer to Mjölnir, and he smiled inwardly.

“The Royal Crafter has officially invited Loki to the celebration, as a representative of Asgard, for he knows your duties prevent you from travelling so far.”

Loki admired how Steve played around with Thor, not flattering him but only stating what he thought true. If he continued with that argument, Thor wouldn’t have any choice but to let him go. His heart jumped at the idea of _finally_ getting to see Anthony with Thor’s agreement, without having to sneak out.

“I am here today,” Steve continued, a hand reaching for Mjölnir, and Loki guessed the Selkie wasn’t even aware he was touching the hammer. “To implore you to let Loki go with us. James, who came along with me, will have rid you of the troublemaker in the Northern forest by tomorrow.”

His hand encircled the shaft of the hammer and Thor tensed even more. Loki stayed very still, waiting for Steve's inevitable failure to lift the hammer. Hopefully that would make Thor laugh and he would accept Steve’s suggestion. After all, James could _actually_ solve the problem. The God had explained what he had found and the Banshee had ensured him he could do it, if Loki was right. And of course he was right.

Steve cast a brief look at the hammer and turned to Thor, openly looking at him for the first time since he had spoken.

“Can I lift it?”

Thor fussed on his throne, as he did every time someone messed with his hammer, even though he could call it back at any moment. Visibly straining to stay put, he replied with a simple, “Yes.”

And then Steve lifted the hammer. Just like that.

Thor jumped down to his feet and called Mjölnir to him, wresting the hammer from Steve’s hands. The room filled up with electricity and Loki cast a small protection spell around him and the Selkie. He knew Thor’s ire to be destructive sometimes.

“How, by the Norns, did you do that, Selkie?” Thor rumbled, his voice even deeper and charged with anger and a hint of fear that Loki detected.

Steve stuttered, clearly overwhelmed by the events.

“I-I didn’t do anything special. I wouldn’t have done it if I had known it was forbidden, I swear!”

Thunder rumbled outside, and lightning cracked in the air of the room, thick with tension. Loki stepped in front of the Selkie, interposing himself between Thor and the poor Steve.

“Well you know Steve, this hammer isn’t just any hammer,” he started with a light tone, keeping his body language neutral and showing his hands to Thor, not wanting to be the trigger of his wrath. “It’s Thor's personal hammer, and it is said that only worthy people can lift it. For others, me for instance, the hammer is too heavy to lift.”

Steve frowned, trying to process what Loki had just said. Thor surprised them both by continuing.

“That means you are worthy according to Asgard’s magic, Selkie.”

He did the most unexpected thing for Loki; he dropped on one knee in front of Steve, and the air suddenly became clear of electricity. Steve, visibly embarrassed, rushed to Thor to get him up.

“Alright then, I’m worthy, fantastic. Does that mean you can let Loki go because I asked you?”

Now it was Thor’s turn to frown. Loki unsuccessfully tried to stifle his laugh, pleased by the Selkie’s mind and the fact that he hadn’t lost sight of his objective. Thor made a desperate gesture and finally said,

“Yes, yes, Loki can go with you, I guess.”

His hand flexed on Mjölnir’s shaft and he added, his voice falling an octave down again,

“But before that, I want proof that the Banshee has managed to solve the problem in the Northern Forest.”

Loki couldn’t help but feel proud of his brother and how he had ultimately remembered and understood Loki’s diplomacy and negotiation lessons. A gentle knock from the window leading to the balcony startled the three of them, and they turned together to discover James gleefully waving at them from the balcony, a shining orb in his hands and a huge grin on his face.

~°~

“Wait, so you mean it was a soul you had already encountered?”

“Yes it was! I don’t know why she was called back, but it was a wyvern I helped once, and she was trapped in between the fabric of Asgard’s realms, so I just… how do I say this? I untangled her, I guess, in a metaphorical way.”

Bucky was nearly vibrating with happiness. It appeared that he had found the cause of the trouble even more easily than expected. Loki had been partly right: it was indeed a soul that had caused all the bizarre events the locals had witnessed, and because wyverns didn’t exactly live there, they had identified it as a dragon. Heimdall couldn’t sense it because souls, pure ethereal souls, were beyond his vision.

Steve called out to Thor, his tone excited and genuinely gleeful. His relief to see James safe and successful was evident, and it was almost sickening.

“Now you must let Loki go, you have your proof.”

He showed Thor the shining orb, which morphed into a complex, multi-branched star in his hand. It was the greatest present a dying soul could offer: instead of slipping into the Soul Realm or staying as an ethereal being, a soul could concentrate its essence in such an orb, giving its energy to its wielder. Apparently it could also change form and obey the mental orders its wielder sent. Anthony wanted the best star Asgard could offer, and James had definitely found it.

Thor grumbled and shrugged, watching the two guests he had welcomed into his Realm and who had found a way to let Loki roam freely in Avalon with their scheme and their combined feats.

The Trickster God had the decency to keep a stern face, hands clasped behind his back, waiting in front of the throne. The corners of his lips were slightly curved up, as he relished the feeling of success.

“I won’t go back on my promise, Selkie. Loki is free to go to Avalon for…” Loki took pity on him and prompted the foreign word, so Thor could finish his sentence. “For Christmas.”

James was clearly restraining himself from jumping into Steve’s arms, and Loki could see his muscles twitching and the first impulse of joy that made him flinch. Feeling magnanimous, the God bowed in front of Thor and said in a calm voice that didn’t let the exhilaration he felt show,

“Well, we will be heading back to my cabin and then we will go to Avalon. According to the human calendar, Christmas day is in less than a week.”

Thor waved for them to leave and looked at his hammer with a concerned face. Loki let him dwell on what had just happened and how he was going to deal with the fact that someone else could lift Mjölnir. Someone that wasn’t an Asgardian and that could actually _claim the throne_. For now, he had a pack to prepare and two guests to guide back to Avalon.

**~°~**

_The next day_

Bucky was so happy he could die. Except he didn’t want to, and he wasn’t going to. Which made him even happier.

He was packing his belongings, and couldn’t help but sing. Everything that had happened in the past three days had forced him to face his feelings, and he had found they were reciprocal.

He had helped the wyvern; she had been calling for someone to help, tangled in the fabric of the Realm, incapable of slipping through. When she had recognised and remembered Bucky, she had wiggled with joy and relief, and when he had finished chanting and delicately freed her, she had offered her soul’s essence. Bucky had cried with the _gratitude_ that had radiated through the orb. He would never have guessed this turn of events, but he was glad nonetheless.

He was packing his belongings, and Steve was out in the forest with Loki to find the best fir while singing. Loki, being a magical being with particular affinities with the Forest — he had performed his balance rituals for the Equinoxes and Solstices of the year here, so he was in tune with the place — had a voice that resonated in a particular way.

Steve had said he could find the best fir with the God's voice the same way he had found the lake back in the first days of travel. Loki had encouraged Bucky to prepare to leave as soon as Steve and he found the perfect fir.

Bucky had discreetly finished carving the wood seal and had polished it. He had used the remaining bracelet that had saved them during the tempest to make a necklace. That was going to be his Christmas present for Steve.

For Pepper, he had found a knife — sharp, balanced, elegant, as Nat liked them, and for Nat, Steve had found while wandering the villages near the Forest a music box with an old tune she had taught Bucky.

Steve had recognised it thanks to the many times Bucky had sung it during their travels, and the Banshee had immediately asked about it. It had turned out that the locals were grateful to the Banshee for having saved them, despite Bucky explaining to them that he hadn’t really saved them. The old lady who had crafted the box had given it to Bucky and had adamantly refused any kind of payment in return.

For the rest of the Tower, his knapsack was full of little souvenirs that he had collected during the trip. Little shiny or funny rocks, dried flowers from the Human Realm that should please all the human souls. He had everything. And for Anthony, well… He brought back Loki, and given the love that bound them, that was enough to make the Crafter happy.

When he was starting to get sleepy, staring at the blue flames and their hypnotising patterns, comfortably sitting on the couch, he heard voices from the outside. He was brought back to reality immediately when he identified Steve’s lovely laugh. They had found the best fir, finally!

But how did they drag it to Loki’s cabin?

Curious, Bucky peeped outside and blinked, the sun’s rays reflecting off the snow momentarily blinding him. When the dark spots in front of his eyes disappeared, he felt a pang of fondness at the sight of the Selkie laughing at Loki’s illusions as the God played another trick. The sun was casting a perfect light on them both. Steve’s hair shone within a halo of light, his muscular silhouette a perfect contrast with the slender shape of the Trickster God.

Oh, how much he loved the Selkie was baffling.

Bucky searched for the fir, expecting a tall, large, massive tree behind them. Steve was dragging something with a rope, but without any effort. Maybe Loki had enchanted the tree to make it lighter.

Or not. Maybe the best fir out there was a tiny crooked fir Steve that could move effortlessly, because it was so light even a child could have lifted it. Bucky frowned and stared at it, puzzled. How come, exactly?

Steve giggled when he saw Bucky’s confused face and exclaimed,

“Yep, that’s the best one. It almost vibrated with Loki’s voice when we came closer, and Loki is formal. Its vital energy is the strongest out there.”

Bucky put his hands on his hips and examined the small tree.

“Well, at least it will be easy to bring him back.” Thinking about something, he looked at Loki who came back from his cabin, a small knapsack on his shoulders.

“Say, how do we go back? You can’t bring us through Yggdrasil’s roots. It’s too far from here.”

With a smirk, the God asked them,

“Do you have everything that belongs to you?”

They took a few minutes to gather their remaining belongings. Steve suited up with the cloak Bucky had bought him, and with a move of the head, he said to Loki,

“I left the cloak Thor gave me here. I don’t have room to bring it back with me.”

“Rest assured, he won’t miss it, and I have plenty of room in my bag.”

Loki waved his fingers and the cloak came floating, then curled up in a roll that went into the God’s bag. Bucky rolled his eyes and whispered, “Show off”, which made Steve smile widely.

“Alright, if you’re ready, we are leaving. First to Asgard’s shore, then I’ll show you how we will get to Avalon in time.”

Bucky took Steve’s hand, hot and soft in his, and then took the hand Loki gently offered him. He closed his eyes and the last thing he saw was Steve doing the same, serene. He felt the now familiar tear through the Realm and a marine scent hit him, along with the sound of the waves.

When he opened his eyes, a smile bloomed on his face as the memories of his first encounter with Steve came back to his mind. He tilted his head to look at the Selkie, who had the same kind of smile. He squeezed his hand and was rewarded with a squeeze in response.

Next to them, Loki whistled, a long plaintive note that was carried by the wind. The same note answered him a few seconds later, and a rumble followed. The previously peaceful waters bubbled and a _horse_ spewed out of the surface, then galloped till the border of the shore at the limit between the waves and the sand.

Steve and Bucky turned to Loki, waiting for the next proposition of the God. The Banshee started to understand better why Anthony and he loved each other: they shared the same love for strange and slightly insane ideas.

“This will be my mount. Let me introduce you to my horse, Sleipnir. He can travel within the borders of the Realms and on the ocean, at great speed.”

The horse made a reverence, his mane glistening and waving like liquid water. Maybe it was, actually. Bucky imitated him mechanically and Steve did the same, the two of them too shocked to think about it.

“As for you two, you will travel by sea. All your packages will be on Sleipnir, as well as the fir.” He waved again and the fir levitated near the horse, who smelled it and neighed loudly. Steve said out of the blue,

“It’s the best, don’t mock it. Your master found it.”

Bewildered, Bucky looked at him, concerned. Had he just talked to the horse? Loki’s voice echoed his thoughts and asked out loud. Steve appeared to think about it for a second before answering.

“I guess I can. I just… understood what he said.”

Loki let out a small laugh, then mumbled something involving “Thor” and “further research”, before continuing on with his explanation.

“Steve, you will transform, and I’ll transform Bucky into a seal too, then enchant you to give you the same speed Sleipnir has. Is that alright for both of you?”

**~°~**

Bucky couldn’t quite believe he was a seal. Even better, he had been transformed into a seal by Loki, who had the decency not to look at him naked and miserable in the water while Steve, already transformed, had been jumping around him and projecting cold water onto his exposed skin, and then enchanted to swim _fast_.

And Gods, they swam fast. The speed was exhilarating and the sensations of the water caressing his body, his muscles flexing, and all the sounds he could perceive. The vibrations of Steve in front of him, his bubbly chant that was filled with love and glee, and the echoes of Sleipnir’s hooves on the surface. He could hear everything.

They followed Loki’s guidance in between the Realms and Bucky could sense Avalon’s Realm getting closer and closer, its calling stronger with every second.

He accelerated to swim next to Steve and chanted tentatively at first, then more assured when he realised it was natural for him. He chanted his love and how he appreciated the moment, and when Steve answered him, Bucky made a joyful jump out of the water, exhilarated.

The journey was coming to an end, but it was only a beginning. Steve had assured him he would stay with Bucky for as long as the Banshee let him. He couldn’t wait to introduce him to Anthony, Nat, and Pepper, and to show him his bedroom and finally get the night Steve had promised him, and to share every moment of his life with him.

Just because he could.

And to offer him his present, to discover the present Steve had thought of, the presents all Tower’s inhabitants had thought of and to enjoy this celebration.

Just because he could.


	5. Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are all reunited to celebrate Christmas, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the last one! 
> 
> I can't believe I crossed the 30k milestone on my very first work in English. I felt rather uneasy when I started the story, because I couldn't write as easily as in French and I missed vocabulary. (And then EachPeachPearPlum saved me.)  
> I thought writing in English would help me write less, but I fooled myself. And I'm so glad for Ruquas for giving me the confidence to sign-in! 
> 
> As always, countless thanks to her for organising the event. Many thanks to my beta, emptydistractions, who saved me (and had to endure 30k words full of mistakes). 
> 
> I hope you liked it till the end, alittlewicked!

Today was the big day. James, Loki, and the Selkie, Steve, had arrived the previous day, exhausted, on Avalon’s shore. Steve and Bucky had both been naked when they had set foot on the beach, and they had jumped on Loki to retrieve the knapsacks that had contained their clothes.

Jarvis had warned Anthony that he could feel the God of Mischief getting closer and closer. It had been a relief; Anthony had been without a letter from James or Loki for too long. He had been even more grateful towards the entity when he had the opportunity to witness James struggling to retrieve his clothes while the Selkie had been arguing with Loki’s horse — something Anthony never thought he would see in his life.

They had all gathered in the Tower, all shouting and trying to explain what had happened here and there, and it had become chaos when the souls had understood James was back. The chaos had worsened when Loki had brought the fir inside. The small crooked fir had looked really cute once covered under all the ornaments the souls had secretly crafted with Pepper’s help.

The shiny orb that had morphed into a star when James had asked it to do so had produced various _“Oooh”'_ s and _“Wooooow”'_ s, and even more when Jarvis had realised they could communicate with the orb and made it change form freely. They had had an apple, then a tiny version of James, Anthony, Nat, and for now it featured someone new every hour.

Pepper had jumped into James’ arms before thinking about what she had done, and her apologies to Natasha had been the sweetest thing Anthony had seen coming from them. Besides the lovely death threats every time he had messed up with his appointments.

James had introduced Loki, who had bowed like the prince he was and kissed Pepper’s and Nat’s hands, _and Anthony’s hand because Anthony was his princess_. Because Loki had actually said that.

Steve had introduced himself and Anthony had seen James look at the man with infinite tenderness and pride. He didn’t know yet what they had gone through, but given their intimacy and complicity, they had found each other and he was so glad for his friend.

Then all three newcomers had gone to sleep, apparently exhausted after having ridden a horse and swum, respectively, for five days. Without sleeping nor stopping, full magic juice.

Anthony wished he still had that kind of endurance, but he didn’t delude himself. He knew he wasn’t as powerful as Loki and certainly not as young as James or Steve, and his precarious condition didn’t help either.

Anthony had invited Loki into his quarters, and the Trickster God had accepted and had collapsed on Anthony’s bed as soon as he had spotted it in the room. Anthony had made sure to let him sleep and had worked on his present for him with Jarvis in his workshop all night, because he couldn’t sleep with the excitement.

James had taken Steve with him into his own quarters and Jarvis had informed the Crafter they had stumbled onto the bed and fallen asleep almost immediately. As for Loki, Anthony had made sure they hadn’t been disturbed.

The first rays of sunlight came through the windows and illuminated the new device he had just finished. It was far from perfect, but it held a great power, and he couldn’t wait to show it to Loki.

James’ present was on the table, all pretty and ready to be put on. Nat and Pepper had a common present, and Anthony had struggled to get it — but was glad he had taken the time and energy to fight for it, as he was sure it would please them both.

“Sir, James and Steve have awakened, as well as Sir Loki.”

“Thank you Jarvis, much appreciated. Let’s start it?”

“Let’s do it, Sir.”

**~°~**

All the windows of the Tower suddenly opened, and a triumphant, gleeful melody filled the air, coming from everywhere. The whole Tower was vibrating with it. Steve and Bucky, getting dressed up for the big day, jumped and looked at each other before Bucky said,

“Must be Tony. Sounds like him.”

They hurried up, as they didn’t want to be late for the present exchange. Gleefully, they took their knapsack, in which they had prepared everything for everyone and headed out.

In another part of the Tower, Loki smiled at the music as clothes materialised around him. He had chosen red and gold robes to match Anthony’s favourite colours, and he wasn’t really sure about it.

He usually never wore such bright colours, but he had decided to give it a go for Christmas. As he exited Anthony’s quarters to go to the workshop, where Anthony surely was, he saw mistletoe grow under every door frame. It was visually striking, and the God let out an appreciative hum.

In yet another part of the Tower, Nat tenderly woke up Pepper, admiring her delicate features coming back to life, sleep still lingering in her blue eyes. She helped her get dressed, and together they walked towards the central hall. Nat had stealthily put their presents to the others under the fir, as Pepper had told her it was how Christmas worked for her.

When Pepper saw the mistletoe under their door frame, she gently cupped Nat’s face and put a chaste kiss on her lips. When they pulled away, Nat raised an eyebrow and enquired,

“Another Christmas custom?”

Pepper just nodded with a smile and Nat shrugged. Silly humans.

By chance, or because of the magic of Christmas perhaps, they all arrived in the centre hall together. Loki and Anthony were almost late because they had kissed under every single door frame they had encountered — and they had taken a route with quite a lot of them. Anthony had almost had a heart attack when he had seen Loki wearing his colours, and he was determined to thank him properly.

Bucky and Steve, oblivious of the meaning of the mistletoe, blushed when they realised what it implied and the necessity of not standing in a door frame with someone else than each other. All the human souls Bucky had brought back had kissed; some on the cheek, some on the lips, and some had even imitated Loki and had kissed hands in a cavalier way.

The atmosphere was electric and filled with joy and waiting. The tiny fir, gloriously covered with ornaments, was now encircled with presents that seemed to never cease.

When the flow of people and presents ended, Anthony stepped in front of the fir, and the shiny orb chose that moment to take his appearance, which induced a wave of laughter in the small crowd gathered in front of him.

“So, as you all know, we are gathered here to celebrate a day called Christmas. Technically, according to human calendars it’s today, but I apologise if it isn’t. We are not going to cancel anyway.”

Anthony’s throat felt tight with emotion, but he forced himself to continue.

“I am genuinely happy and moved by the passion you all invested into it. I would like you to applaud James.” Anthony pointed at him. “Steve.” He was next to the Banshee, holding his left hand. “And Loki.” The God curtsied, and thunderous applause echoed in the room, along with some boldly shouted _“Whoooo!”_ 's.

“You are now free to come collect your presents!” Anthony shouted, before stepping out of the way.

The crowd remained mostly calm, though the enthusiasm was palpable. Four or five people came near the fir and started distributing the presents, calling out loud the name of the receiver. Anthony was surprised to receive a drawing of Loki, handsomely captured on the paper. He silently asked the God about it and Loki pointed at Steve.

Well, that was a wonderful talent. Anthony knew he had to frame the drawing to keep it safe and near him. The Loki on the paper was smiling at him, and his heart constricted when he thought about how lucky he was to be loved like that.

Another packet came sliding on the floor — the souls knew he didn’t like to be handed things — and he opened it with childish curiosity. Inside, he found a small note and an invitation for two at the best restaurant in Avalon. It was signed from Pepper, and he blew her a kiss across the room before running to Loki to inform him of their plans for the night.

The Trickster God was opening the package Anthony had crafted with patience, careful not to tear the fabric. Inside was a glowing blue device, shaped in a circular way, and it pulsed with magic. When Loki timidly touched it, it moved to adapt to his hands, covering his skin. It wasn’t cold or warm, and it retracted as soon as Loki took his hands away.

Anthony came from behind and gently hugged him. He whispered,

“Do you know what it can do?”

Loki placed a kiss on his forehead before speaking.

“No, but I know you’re going to tell me.”

The arms around his waist tensed and Anthony let out with a trembling voice,

“It allows me to step out of Avalon. Not for long though, it’s still in progress. But…”

Loki cut him off by kissing him fiercely, his whole body burning with exhilaration.

At the opposite corner of the room, Bucky discovered the collection of drawings Steve had prepared for him and at the same time Steve unpacked his necklace. He immediately put it around his neck before admiring its curves and details. It was beautiful, and he loved it. He approached Bucky and wondered,

“Do you like them?” He gestured at all the drawings the Banshee was browsing through. For an answer, Bucky rushed to him and hugged him tightly, and Steve felt the Banshee’s heart beating in his ribcage, and only thanks to his enhanced senses he heard Bucky murmur,

“I love them with all my heart.”

They stayed like that, swaying silently, enjoying the moment and the presence of the other near them, in their arms.

Later in the day, Anthony showed the house he had managed to buy for Pepper and Nat, where they put the tiny music box, which had brought Nat to tears, and the drawings Steve had made them based on James’ description.

Even later, Anthony and Loki went to share a dinner at the most delicious restaurant in Avalon. They bantered a lot, laughed even more, and headed home gleeful and determined not to sleep _at all_.

They didn’t know Bucky and Steve had the same intention, in Bucky’s large and comfortable bed. Steve had finally fulfilled their promise, and he made sure to offer the best Christmas night to the Banshee. Because it was Christmas, and because he loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have a moment and enjoyed your reading, let me know your thoughts in the comments! Thank you~


End file.
